Where Fear Lives, page 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 Lily Campbell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One 1
Chapter Two 10
Chapter Three 17
Chapter Four 24
Chapter Five 31
Chapter Six 40
Chapter Seven 46
Chapter Eight 54
Chapter Nine 62
Chapter Ten 71
Chapter Eleven 80
Chapter Twelve 87
Chapter Thirteen 96
Chapter Fourteen 105
Chapter Fifteen 113
Chapter Sixteen 122
Chapter Seventeen 131
Chapter Eighteen 141
Chapter Nineteen 150
Chapter Twenty 159
Chapter Twenty-One 169
Chapter Twenty-Two 178
Chapter Twenty-Three 187
Chapter Twenty-Four 196
Chapter Twenty-Five 205
Chapter Twenty-Six 215
Chapter Twenty-Seven 223
Chapter Twenty-Eight 232
Chapter Twenty-Nine 241
Chapter Thirty 249
Chapter Thirty-One 259
Chapter Thirty-Two 267
Chapter Thirty-Three 275
Chapter Thirty-Four 283
Chapter Thirty-Five 291
Chapter Thirty-Six 299
Chapter Thirty-Eight 308
Chapter Thirty-Nine 317
Chapter Forty 325
Chapter Forty-One 335
Chapter Forty-Two 343
Chapter Forty-Three 351
Chapter Forty-Four 360
Chapter Forty-Five 369
Chapter Forty-Six 378
Chapter Forty-Seven 387
Chapter Forty-Eight 395
Chapter Forty-Nine 404
Chapter Fifty 413
Chapter Fifty-One 422
Chapter Fifty-Two 430
CHAPTER ONE
The phones were ringing constantly. The tight tension in the voices of the people answering them added to the sounds of chaos. Seniors barked questions, their voices beginning to show the strain of the situation even with all their years of service. The newer agents were visibly shaking as they jumped and spewed out answers.
Special Agent Tony Carrow snorted. Like we could forget at a moment like this.
“Hey, sir?”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the eager tone and turned to face his latest partner. Since the death of his partner a year ago, the assistant director of the anti-terrorism unit had sent him a steady stream of new recruits, no matter how many times he said he did not want another right-hand man.
New Agent Daniel Harper missed the glare entirely. His eyes were locked on the scene below where it was a complete chaos.
“Is there something you wanted, Agent Harper?”
Agent Harper shook himself. “Should you get down there?”
Agent Carrow raised an eyebrow, then ran a hand through his hair where the white strands of age mixed in with the blonde. “We’ve had seven bomb threats this week already, but yes, you seem to be right. They aren’t keeping calm.”
“That may have something to do with this.”
He took a quick glance at the report and cursed. “What the hell? Lead with this next time!”
Agent Carrow threw himself down the two stairs at a time, ignoring the tight pull and never absent pain from his still recovering thigh. He skidded to a halt before the huge crest of the organization he had served since leaving school.
“Everyone!” his voice the first in the room to show no anxiety of any kind.
All eyes turned at the call with relief in more than a few. Agent Carrow swallowed another curse. Being the one everyone thought could solve anything was a heavy burden and a status doomed to failure. One day, you were bound to fall short of such high expectations.
Ok. Let’s not make that today.
“Alright people, enough running around to their beat. We’re the ones running this show. Let’s remind them of it.”
A few smiles greeted his words, but they were still tense and many of the senior agents wore looks of mild disbelief. The report in his hands told him why. They had been tracking a terrorist cell for a few months but to no avail. Trying to discover and arrest members and also to stop them before any plans could be carried out was harder than it had sounded.
It looked as if his preemptive move last week to take down a high-ranking member was now apt to backfire spectacularly. A member had just been seen walking into the Smithsonian Museum through a back entrance.
He looked at the expectant faces and resisted the urge to shake his head. The FBI was supposed to be like the old Roman legions. A unit of no personality, no individual thought, with a single goal. If it had ever been that, it must have been long before his time. Now his team with insufficient training was waiting on his commands.
Tony Carrow took a deep breath. He let his sharp gaze fall on the people he wanted and picked them from the crowd.
“Agent Dawson, get your team into the security feed. I want to know where our target is at all times.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Agent Clark, take your team to the scene. We have men on the ground already. Get in touch and ensure a tight perimeter.
“Yes, sir.”
“Agent Luther, get in touch with our head. Let her know what has changed and the plan.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The rest of you, get on communications. I want to know if anything changes and I also want a count of who is at the Smithsonian today.”
As the people moved out, Daniel Harper sidelined closer. “And us, sir?”
Agent Carrow glanced at his sidelong. “We are going to find out why he changed targets.”
Agent Harper nodded, though a small crease had appeared between his brows. “Isn’t it possible that he realized the target was a setup?”
“Maybe, but I want to know how and why. Get to it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Agent Carrow watched Agent Clark and his team leave with mild regret. Being right in the line of fire had once been his job. But a limping agent was not worth much in a gunfight. Now he was stuck here, promoted to Special Agent-in-Charge for acts of bravery. They had taken the one thing that made him feel useful.
“Don’t let it get you down. Just because you aren’t out there wearing body armor doesn’t mean you aren’t making a contribution.”
“Are you mocking me, rookie?”
Agent Harper flashed a small smile. “Not at all, sir.”
“Then get to work.”
He watched the younger man settle behind a computer and felt his lips twitch. Usually, these new bloods that kept foisting on him didn’t last long. Agent Harper’s only fault was that he seemed not to understand the time and place for certain things. But unlike the others, his enthusiasm did not lead to reckless behavior and his obedience was genuine rather than grudgingly forked out. He was quick to spot patterns and had a remarkable memory for names and faces.
Agent Carrow turned to the other monitors scattered around and looked over the security feeds from inside the buildings. People milled about aimlessly, unaware that they might be living the last few moments of their lives. A father was wagging a finger at his son after scooping the young child back over the barrier. A mother sat in an alcove with a nursing infant. University students laughed and spoke, all the sounds of life silenced in the grey wash footage.
Agent Carrow felt his hands begin to clench and forced them to relax. He was well-disciplined in displaying no emotions of a calm, cool-headed leader, but inside, he felt everything those around him were showing. His fears for all the strangers on the screens around him were like a choking vine. If they couldn’t get to the target first and disarm him, many innocent lives would be lost.
“He’s been spotted. An officer is tailing him now,” Agent Dawson called out, not looking up from his three screens. Two were streaming an endless array of programming that put Agent Carrow in the mind of the Matrix, but the last had singled out a target to follow from camera to camera.
“Good. Remind him not to be spotted. Our team should be there soon. Once they get there, begin to calmly extract the civilians. Any mundane excuse will do.”
“Yes, sir.”
Agent Carrow watched the target for a moment longer. Everything, from the man’s clothes to the set, concealed the look on his face that spoke of evil to come. It was a look one came to recognize quite early on in this line of work.
Feeling his anxiety rise, he turned to another monitor. Staring at the man would not make him any less likely to kill. Outside the building, he watched Agent Clark and his team arrive. No sirens, no fanfare to frighten the public. They drove round back and Agent Carrow released some of the tension in his chest. Civilians would begin being moved and his agents would slowly act to herd the man to an unpopulated area where he could hopefully be taken down cleanly.
Agent Harper made a noise from behind him and Agent Carrow turned in time to watch the young man turn pale. His blue eyes locked on his screen with mute horror.
He marched to his partner’s side and bent over the chair. On the screen were multiple open windows, lists, maps, and aerial stills.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“I think I know why he changed target.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering, Agent Harper stood with his hands shaking. “Agent Dawson, find a school group. Class trip. Give their location to Agent Clark. He needs to get them out of there now.”
Agent Carrow gripped Agent Harper’s shoulders and spun him to face him. “Tell me what you know.”
“The president's daughter is in there.”
He felt the ground tilt and collapsed half sitting on the edge of Agent Harper’s desk. No wonder their bait had fallen flat.
He snatched up a comms unit. “Agent Clark?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Have you found them?”
“We’re entering now, sir.”
“Shoot him on sight.”
There was a pause of static, then another “Yes sir.”
Hearing Agent Dawson swear, Agent Carrow looked over in time to see the image of the target enter the frame where a teacher was guiding a class. Tony Carrow reached for the screen as if he could do something from here. On the opposite side of the image, they saw a shadow move into place and raise a gun.
The image shook and faded. A moment later, the sound of an explosion from the comm sets silenced the fearful murmurs and curses. They had failed.
CHAPTER TWO
The shifting colors of autumn caught the sunlight, and Jayden Roe couldn’t resist a contented smile. He then sighed, realizing he would miss the place. The mountains rose and fell around him, the new splashes of oranges, reds, and yellows reflecting in the glassy surface of the lake.
He hadn’t left his cabin here in the Blue Ridge Mountains for almost three years, imprisoned by his own words and incurred debts. The Serpent brothers had kept him stocked up with food and other necessities, mostly sent by Keira, cousin to the twin.
Her company had been a godsend, what with her quick-wit and easy humor. They had become something like friends, if Jay forgot that she was essentially his jailer. She was easy to be around, always happy to relay the latest news and scandals. But unlike gossipers, she relayed facts only, in an unattached voice, offering no personal opinions unless asked. If it hadn’t been for his debts, he would have asked her to stay longer each time she came.
Debts. That was all his life had become—a repayment of the debts he had incurred in his hunt for Stella. He felt a small pang at the thought of his ex and turned his gray eyes towards the clear blue sky.
Stella was slowly recovering from her trauma. Even though he had solved the cold-blooded game, he lost so much more. Stella had chosen, for her own sanity, to remove Jay from her life. Her long and tear-stained letter of thank you’s and goodbye’s felt like a blow to his face. However, he respected the choice. He was glad she had made the choice instead of him. It will be much safer for her.
“Back to being a lone wolf,” he muttered to the still waters. He watched an eagle soar overhead. It was going to be surprisingly hard to leave the calm isolation of the mountains and join the bloody fray in the world beyond them. He smiled as the bird circled the lake. “Maybe I’ll stay here just a little longer. Without work for Gary, Keira and I could spend a whole day uninterrupted.”
He smiled at the foolish thought, wondering if she would agree or think he’s mad.
Jay felt his smile fade as the phone in his pocket buzzed. He raised a pale hand to the hands-free earpiece and took the call.
“Jay, I’m nearly at the scene. I’ll be following our usual pattern, but I can’t mess up on this one, so I need you on standby.”
Jay shook his head. His work at rebuilding Gary Peter’s reputation and credibility as a top investigator had not been easy.
“You know, Gary,” replied Jay, rising from the boulder he had been sitting on and leaping nimbly to the ground, “what are you going to do in two weeks when my promise to you is fulfilled?”
He heard a muttered oath, but it carried none of the venom it once would have. “This is different. I have been handling a lot on my own lately and you know it.”
Jay chuckled and headed towards the little cabin that had become home. “Why is this one different?”
“Because the people asking aren’t civilians.”
Jay froze with his hand on the doorknob. “I guess the reputation you’ve gained these past years was better than I thought.”
Gary couldn’t hide the smug note in his tone. “Just get your ass in front of your computer.”
“You sure you want to get mixed up in something like that?” Jay asked. The cabin, which despite its remote location, could boast excellent signal and WiFi. No doubt all thanks to Joe the tech wiz. “If they find out you’re wired, you’ll be in deep...”
“That’s not your concern, Jay. I’m there. You’ll have footage and sound but don’t talk. I’ll ask for your feedback when I want it.”
“Gotcha,” Jay muttered.
The desks each bore several monitors and gadgets, all connected to his laptop, completely rebuilt by Joe himself. Beside this was a large square of light projected against a blank white wall so that Jay could throw pieces of information up there to create visual timelines and storyboards. Crammed into a corner was a single bed and two doors leading to a bathroom and a kitchen.
Jay collapsed in his chair and hit a few keys on his laptop. He turned his eyes to the largest of the screens where the video feed from Gary’s camera was showing him a scene from nightmares. Gary turned to greet someone and Jay felt his stomach flip over.
The FBI. Christ. I am glad that they’re after Gary and not me. I know better than to get involved with the nameless and faceless.
As the agent began going through the legalities, Jay used a separate monitor to zoom in on the desired section of footage and froze it. He ran the now heavily pixelated image through Joe’s programs and waited with growing impatience for the new, smoothed-out image to form.
He glanced back in time to see Gary turn in a slow circle. Jay began concentrating on spotting other clues. It would have been nice for Gary to have bothered to fill him in before disconnecting the call, but that had never been Gary’s way. Even though the three years had erased the lingering enmity, Gary never did anything to help Jay. It seems Gary hoped that he would be forced to ask so that Gary could take pleasure in knowing something Jay did not.
But this isn’t the time to be messing around.
Jay froze when the image panned over a toppled-over and half-melted plaque. He turned his focus back to the other monitor with the program. Slowly, the image resolved and Jay felt his eyes widen. The word ‘Smithsonian’ was just visible, along with information on the display that had now been blown apart.
Jay’s fingers flew across the keys as he pulled a search through the news for a terrorist attack at the Smithsonian. Two other screens began showing choppy media footages. The reporters all looked scared despite the glimmer in their eyes for getting such a big scoop.
He looked back at the screen showing Gary’s footage and frowned. The man’s movements seemed awkward, as if he were being frog-marched somewhere. Jay flicked the audio back on and winced at the panic in Gary’s voice.
“…done nothing. I’m only here because you asked me to be. You flew me out here yourselves!”
Jay watched the FBI man’s gaze flash across Gary then shift back up and lock on the tiny camera. Jay stiffened and quickly began setting up the kill program that would stop them from tracing the feed.
“Take that off him and check for more.”
Jay cursed at the same time Gary did. Jay hit the launch button and prayed Joe’s programming was fast enough to stop them.
That is exactly why I don’t tangle with these organizations. I swear to God, Gary, if you mention my name, you’ll wish the FBI had just locked you away.
