Mark Young - Off the grid

Trying to control his breathing, Richard leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the chopper. He trusted Collette’s skills and knew firsthand how deadly she could be. All sweet and nice on the outside, but as lethal as the unrestrained Ebola virus.

Find Gerrit. Kill Gerrit. I will do the rest.

He picked up his cell phone and quickly dialed a number. “Okay, here’s what I want you to do,” he said, as soon as the person on the other end answered. Richard laid out his plan.

Richmond, Virginia

Gerrit could smell snow in the air, cold air cutting into his nostrils like a razor. Since they’d pulled into a motel, he sensed the weather might worsen.

Joe rented several adjoining rooms at the far end of the parking lot, away from noisy traffic and prying eyes. Gerrit felt a hand on his arm.

“We need to talk.” His uncle led him away as the others grabbed their belongings and trudged to their rooms. “Come into my room for a minute.”

Gerrit followed the older man up a flight of concrete stairs and into the room. Inside, Joe turned to Gerrit with a frown. “I’m putting you in charge of this trip to Albuquerque. Give you and the others a chance to work together.”

“And where are you going?”

“I’m heading to England. Kane’s shield of protection cracked just a tad when he took you to Harrogate. A mistake on his part. I want to take advantage.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“I actually have some friends stationed at the RAF Menwith Hill site. I plan on setting up surveillance capabilities to identify any visitors Kane might invite to his lair and establish traps to capture electronic communications with others in his group. This is the first time we have had an opportunity to systematically identify our enemy.”

“Be careful. Are you taking anyone with you?”

Joe shook his head. “Nah. You’ll need all hands on deck in Albuquerque. I’ll be fine. I’m not going to do a John Wayne on Kane’s place. Just try to find out what we’re up against.”

As Gerrit turned to leave, doubts started to set in. Splitting up seemed risky. And Joe going solo in Harrogate seemed foolhardy. However, Joe had been doing this for some time. Better not question the teacher until Gerrit knew more.

He got to the door when Joe spoke up. “Oh, wait. I forgot to give you a contact. An Albuquerque PD officer. Here’s his number. Tell him Joe sent you and that Oakland Raiders rule. He’ll get whatever you need. In fact, I’ll give him a quick call to get things started before I leave.”

“And what’s his name?

“Geronimo Sanchez.”

Gerrit raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”

Joe laughed. “Nope. That’s his name. Just don’t try to shorten his name to Geri unless you want to tick him off. He hates it. His old man tagged him with it when Geronimo was young. Only his family gets away with calling him that.”

Gerrit made his way to his own room and saw Alena waiting outside. She watched him unlock the door.

“Joe, talk to you?”

He nodded and gestured inside. “Wanna come in?”

“Only if you leave the door open a crack.”

He smiled. “Don’t trust me?”

She just laughed.

Gerrit grabbed his bag, followed her inside, and set it on the bed. “Joe said he’s headed to England-by himself.”

“He told me.” She waited a moment. “That makes me uncomfortable. We have always worked together as a team.”

Gerrit dragged a chair over for her, taking the edge of the bed for himself. “I don’t have a good feeling about it either. No one for back-up.”

“I know, but he insisted. Claims we are going to need everyone to hit that lab in New Mexico. If we find it, that is. For all we know, Summers might have been, how do you say, full of it.”

A knock on the door made Gerrit jerk. The door opened as Willy stuck his head inside. “Hey guys, turn on the tube. Our boy Gerrit’s on the news.”

Alena and Gerrit exchanged looks. He sprang from the bed and switched on the television. A Fox News anchorman came on, peering into the camera while shuffling papers. “This just in from our reporter Kim Banks outside Seattle Police Department headquarters. Kim, what is the latest on the bombing and murder investigations?”

“Well, Howard, Seattle PD gave a hurried briefing to the press with some surprising information just released. As you know, a joint local, state, and federal investigation has been underway into the brutal murders of federal prosecutor Marilynn Summers, Seattle detective Mark Taylor, and the supposed murder of SPD detective Gerrit O’Rourke, whose home was bombed and the remains of a body recovered among the ruins. And in a related story just in, we’ve learned Senator John Summers, father of Marilynn Summers, was found shot to death in his Bethesda, Maryland, residence.”

The anchorman cut in. “You say the supposed death of Detective O’Rourke? Is there any doubt?”

Kim smiled. “SPD spokesman Lieutenant Stan Cromwell brings us breaking news to answer that, Howard.”

The screen switched to an earlier recording of Cromwell’s press conference. The lieutenant looked older, beaten up, his face contorted with exhaustion and concern. “We have just learned from the coroner’s office that the body found inside our detective’s resident is not that of Officer Gerrit O’Rourke. At this point, we do not know the whereabouts or well-being of Detective O’Rourke. All we can tell you is that the body found inside O’Rourke’s residence is that of an identified male adult. We will not be releasing the identity until after the next of kin is notified.”

Kim, microphone in hand, cut in as the camera zoomed in on her. “There is some speculation that Detective Gerrit may be somehow connected to the deaths of his girlfriend, Marilynn Summers, and his partner, Mark Taylor.”

“Any details, Kim?”

The newswoman soberly looked into the camera. “Federal investigators learned that more than 500,000 dollars was wired into Detective O’Rourke’s account from an offshore business. Investigating further, it has been learned that the source of those funds was an import-export business under the control of a Russian organized-crime group.”

“But didn’t O’Rourke just shoot and kill Russian crime boss Nico Petrosky?”

“Sources close to the investigation believe there might be an internal struggle for power within that group. To create suspicion elsewhere, they may have paid Detective O’Rourke as a hired gun to eliminate competition.”

“But wasn’t he a part of a larger task force, armed with a search warrant for that residence?”

Kim nodded. “Yes. But it is believed that O’Rourke may have escalated the situation in order to take out Nico Petrosky.”

“This is amazing. So, O’Rourke allegedly kills his girlfriend and partner and arranges for his houseboat to be blown up to make it look like he is also a target. Thank you Kim,” Howard said, looking solemnly into the camera while a shot of Senator Summers’s residence loomed in the background. “In other disturbing news, federal investigators are launching a full-court press into the killing of Senator Summers. Earlier this evening, there were reports that his shooting death may have been self-inflicted. However, we have learned from sources close to the investigation that the senator’s death has been ruled a homicide. The FBI is heading up this multiagency investigation, and they remain tight-lipped about the case. No suspects have been identified at this time.”

Howard looked down for a moment as if reflecting on his next words, his brow furrowed. “We can only speculate as to the connection between Senator Summers’s death and those in the Seattle area. Two members of the Summers family eliminated in less than a week.”