Michael Connelly - The Scarecrow

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Jack McEvoy is at the end of the line as a crime reporter. Forced to take a buy-out from the LA Times as the newspaper grapples with dwindling readership and revenues, he's got 30 days left on the job. His last assignment? Training his replacement, a low cost reporter just out of J-school who couldn't find the police station if it was right next store to the Times, which it is. But Jack has other plans for his exit. He is going to go out with a bang – a final story that will win the newspaper journalism's highest honor – a Pulitzer prize. Jack focuses on Alonzo Winslow, a 16-year-old drug dealer from the projects who has confessed to police that he brutally raped and strangled one of his crack clients. Jack convinces Alonzo's mother to cooperate with his investigation into the possibility of her son's innocence. But she has fallen for the oldest reporter's trick in the book. Jack's real intention is to use his access to report and write a story that explains how societal dysfunction and neglect created a 16-year-old killer. But as Jack delves into the story he soon realizes that Alonzo's so-called confession is bogus, and Jack is soon off and running on the biggest story he's had since The Poet crossed his path twelve years before.
This time Jack is onto a killer who has worked completely below police and FBI radar. His investigation leads him into the digital world of data collocation services where server farms are watched over by techs who liken themselves to scarecrows – keeping the birds of prey off their clients' data. But Jack inadvertently set off a digital tripwire and the killer – the Scarecrow – knows he's coming.

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“Rachel-”

The horn blast came loud and long this time. Rachel stood up and stared at the glass as the CO 2system engaged. A white gas exploded out of the pipes crossing the ceiling of the server room. Within seconds the windows were fogged and useless. The high-velocity discharge created a high-pitched whistle that came loud and clear through the thick glass.

“Rachel!” I yelled. “Give me your key. I’m going after Carver.”

She turned and looked at me.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s not killing himself! He’s got that breather and there’s got to be a back door!”

The whistling stopped and we both turned back to the windows. It was a complete white-out in the server room but the CO 2delivery had stopped.

“Give me the key, Rachel.”

She looked at me.

“I should go.”

“No, you need to call for backup and medical emergency. Then work the computer. Find the back door.”

There wasn’t time to think and consider things. People were dying. We both knew it. She pulled the key out of her pocket and gave it to me. I turned to go.

“Wait! Take this.”

I turned back and she handed me her gun. I took it without hesitation, then headed into the mantrap.

Rachel’s gun felt heavier in my hand than I remembered my own gun ever feeling. As I moved through the mantrap, I raised it, checked the action and sighted down its barrel. I was only a once-a-year-at-the-range type of shooter but I knew I would be ready to use the weapon if necessary. I went through the next door and entered the octagon with the muzzle up. There was no one there.

I quickly crossed the room to the door on the opposite side. I knew from the website tour that this led to the large rooms that housed the power and cooling systems for the facility. The workshop where Carver and his techs built the server towers was back here, too. My guess was that there would be a second stairwell also.

I moved into the plant facilities room first. It was a wide space with large equipment. An air-conditioning system the size of a Winnebago sat in the center of the room connected to numerous overhead ducts and cables. Past this were backup systems and generators. I ran to a door on the far left side and used Rachel’s key card to open it.

I stepped into a long and narrow equipment room. There was a second door at the other end and my sense of the building’s plan told me it would lead to the server room.

Moving quickly to it, I saw that there was another biometric hand scanner mounted to the left of the door. Above it was a case holding the emergency breathing devices. It had to be a back door to the server room.

There was no way to tell whether Carver had already made his escape. But I had no time to wait to see if he would come through. I turned and headed back. I quickly moved through the plant facilities room again until I reached a set of double doors on the far side.

Holding the gun up and ready, I opened one of the doors with the key card and stepped into the workshop. This was another large room with tool benches lining the right and left walls and a work space in the center, where one of the black server towers was in midconstruction. The framework and sidings were complete but the interior shelves for servers had not been installed.

Beyond the server tower I saw a circular stairway leading up to the surface. This had to be the way up to the back door and the smokers’ bench.

I quickly moved around the tower and headed for the stairs.

“Hello, Jack.”

Just as I heard my name, I felt the muzzle of the gun on the back of my neck. I hadn’t even seen Carver. He had stepped out from behind the server tower as I had passed.

“A cynical reporter. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t buy my suicide.”

His free hand grabbed hold of my collar from the back and the gun remained pressed against my skin.

“You can drop the gun now.”

I dropped the weapon and it made a loud clatter on the concrete floor.

“I take it that was Agent Walling’s, yes? So why don’t we go back and pay her a visit? And we’ll end this thing right now. Or, who knows, maybe I’ll just end it for you and take her with me. I think I’d like to spend some time with Agent-”

I heard an impact of heavy object on flesh and bone and Carver fell into my back and then dropped to the floor. I turned and there was Rachel, holding an industrial-size wrench she had taken off the workbench.

“Rachel! What are-”

“He left Mowry’s key card on her workstation. I followed you out. Come on. Let’s get him back to the control room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“His hand. He can open the server room.”

We bent down to Carver, who was moaning and moving slowly on the concrete floor. Rachel took her weapon and the one Carver was holding. I saw a second gun in his waistband and grabbed it. I secured it in my own waistband and then helped Rachel drag Carver to his feet.

“The back door is closer,” I said. “And there are breathers there.”

“Lead the way. Hurry!”

We quickly walked, half carried Carver through the facilities room and into the narrow equipment room beyond. The whole way, he moaned and uttered words I couldn’t understand. He was tall but thin and his weight was not overbearing.

“Jack, that was good, figuring out the back door. I just hope we’re not too late.”

I had no idea how much time had passed but was thinking in terms of its being seconds not minutes. I didn’t respond to Rachel but believed we had a good chance to get to her fellow agents in time. When we reached the back door of the server room, I took on Carver’s weight and started to turn him so Rachel would be able to put his hand up on the scanner.

At that moment, I felt Carver’s body stiffen. He was ready for me. He grabbed my hand and pivoted, letting my momentum carry me off balance. My shoulder slammed into the door as Carver dropped one hand and went for the gun in my waistband. I grabbed at his wrist but was too late. His right hand closed around the gun. I was between him and Rachel and I suddenly realized that she couldn’t see the gun and that Carver was going to kill us both.

“Gun!” I yelled.

There was a sudden sharp explosion next to my ear and Carver’s hands fell away from me and he slumped to the floor. A spray of blood hit me as he fell.

I stepped back and doubled over, holding my ear. The ringing was as loud as a passing train. I turned and looked up to see Rachel still holding her gun up in firing position.

“Jack, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine!”

“Quick, grab him! Before we lose the pulse.”

I moved behind Carver so I could get my arms underneath his shoulders and lift him up. Even with Rachel helping, it was a struggle. But we managed to get him upright and then I held him under the arms while she extended his right hand onto the reader.

There was a metal snap as the door’s lock disengaged and Rachel pushed it open.

I dropped Carver on the threshold, keeping the door open to let air in. I opened the case and grabbed the breathers. There were only two.

“Here!”

I gave one to Rachel as we entered the farm. The mist in the server room was dissipating. Visibility was about six feet. Rachel and I put on the breathers and opened the airways, but Rachel kept pulling hers off her mouth in order to call out her fellow agents’ names.

She got no responses. We moved down a central corridor between two lines of servers and were lucky as we came upon Torres and Mowry almost right away. Carver had put them near the back door so he would be able to escape quickly.

Rachel crouched down next to the agents and tried to shake them awake. Neither was responsive. She tore off her breather and put it into Torres’s mouth. I took mine off and put it in Mowry’s.

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