Mallory Kane - Solving the Mysterious Stranger

Shame washed over him, familiar, yet still raw. His father’s betrayal had changed Cole, and he knew it. When he’d graduated with a Ph. D. in Political Science, he’d felt as if he was on top of the world. He’d been looking forward to following in his dad’s footsteps.

Now, if he were honest with himself, and that didn’t happen often these days, he’d have to admit that during the three years he’d been working under deep cover, infiltrating the Global Freedom Front, he’d come to the conclusion that he didn’t really expect to get out of this assignment alive.

Only during the past two days had these other thoughts occurred to him. Only since he’d first seen Amelia and reflected on what he’d signed up to do had he wondered if he was as uninterested in life as he’d convinced himself he was.

Amelia’s chin went up and she turned toward the elevator. Her movement brought his thoughts back to the job at hand and he heard what she’d already heard—the quiet hum of the elevator’s motor.

His pulse thrummed as the door slid open.

Amelia shot him a look from over her shoulder. Her expression pierced him like a poisoned arrow. She backed up, her arms spread defensively.

She was making sure she was between the elevator door and her father.

Cole took his weapon out of his jacket pocket. He should be holding his hostages at gunpoint.

He steeled himself against the urge to copy Amelia’s actions—to put himself in front of her and her father as the leader of the notorious and deadly Global Freedom Front stepped out of the elevator.

Behind him stood his three most trusted guards, each carrying a MAC-10 machine pistol. Chien Fou’s hands were empty.

During the past three years, Cole had developed a deep knowledge and understanding of the man the world and his followers knew only as Chien Fou, or Mad Dog . He’d made it his business to understand the terrorist leader’s motivation—his passion. It was the only way he’d stayed alive this long.

The American, who had put himself in power as the leader of the deadliest terrorist group operating inside the United States, only cared about three things: the demise of the American government, the game of chess and himself.

“Amelia, Mr. Hopkins, this is Chien Fou.”

The name sent shock skittering along Amelia’s nerve endings. Chien Fou . She did her best to keep her expression neutral as the full truth of their situation dawned on her.

She, along with everyone else who listened to national news, knew Chien Fou’s name. She was looking at one of the most notorious terrorists on the planet, the leader of the infamous domestic fringe group, the Global Freedom Front. And she, her dad and the town of Raven’s Cliff were in his clutches.

No one had been able to identify him, but rumor had it that he was an American—a traitor to his country and the cause of freedom.

After the Global Freedom Front’s first attack, the media had plastered an artist’s sketch created from a witness’s description all over newspapers, TV and the Internet. The sketch had become as famous as the drawing of the Unabomber. It depicted a broad-faced man with a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck and a Fedora pulled down over his forehead. The shaded eyes in the sketch hinted at Asian features.

Tonight, he wasn’t wearing the scarf or the hat. The implication chilled her to the bone. The fact that this notorious terrorist was here without a disguise meant that he didn’t care if they could identify him. And there was only one reason he wouldn’t care.

He planned to kill them.

Amelia’s pulse kicked into high gear. Thoughts chased each other around in her brain until she was sure she was going crazy.

Terrorists had taken over Raven’s Cliff . The man the fortune-teller had told her to see with her heart, not her mind, was a traitor to his country. She, her father and everyone in Raven’s Cliff were going to die, and it was all her fault.

If she’d tried harder… If she hadn’t been so scared… If—

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to chase off the whirling thoughts. When she opened them, another shock awaited her.

Behind Chien Fou, Mayor Wells stumbled out of the elevator. His hands were cuffed in front of him and his face was pale and dripping with sweat.

Three armed men followed him. A fourth stayed in the elevator. As the door slid shut, two of the guards moved to opposite sides of the room. The third kept his gun barrel stuck in the mayor’s back.

Amelia retreated another step. She needed to get to her father, to make sure he was all right.

“Cole, why aren’t the prisoners tied up?” Chien Fou smiled at Cole.

Amelia had never seen anything more sinister, more chilling, than Chien Fou’s smile.

“There was a visitor here when I got here, Leader.”

Amelia was shocked by the obsequious tone in Cole’s voice. He wasn’t the type to bow to another. As she’d thought before, he was the captain—not the crew.

“Who?” Chien Fou snapped.

Cole looked at Amelia, his sharp eyes signaling a warning.

“Ross Fancher,” she said.

“Yes?”

How did everything the terrorist leader said sound like a threat? She lifted her chin and gave him a steady look.

For some reason, he found that amusing. He chuckled. “What is Ross Fancher to you or your father?”

“He’s assembly-line manager. He supervises the building of the boats. He just left a few minutes ago.”

“Assembly-line manager. Interesting. Then it is fortunate that his injury has not proven fatal.”

Alarm streaked through her like lightning. “Injury? Is he all right? We need to call a doctor.”

Before she knew it the guard on the south side of the room was at her side, pushing the long barrel of his gun into her flesh just beneath her breast. He was shorter than her, and already heaving with exertion. His breath smelled like stale tobacco and beer.

“I can assure you that your friend will be all right. In fact, he will be helpful to us in carrying out our plan,” Chien Fou said. “I suggest that you stay calm, Miss Hopkins.”

“Stay calm?” She flinched as the gun barrel sank more deeply into her flesh. “You’ve taken us hostage. You’ve hurt people. Forgive me if I’m finding it a little hard to stay calm right now.”

“Then we’ll have to find a way to help you.”

“Leader.” Cole spoke calmly. “Maybe we should get settled for the night. There’s not much of it left, and we’ve got some hard work ahead of us.”

“Always the level head, Cole.” Chien Fou nodded. “Abel, you—”

Wood scraped against wood. Before Amelia could react, her father said, “Don’t move.” He stood behind his desk, his face pale, his expression a mixture of fear and determination. He gripped a semiautomatic pistol in his unsteady hands.

“Dad, no!”

Suddenly three deadly looking machine pistols were aimed at her dad’s chest.

At the same time, Cole vaulted toward her father. He grabbed the gun and wrenched it away. Her dad gasped for breath. Cole pushed him down into his chair.

Her dad’s arrhythmia medicine . Cole still had it, and it was way past time for his bedtime dose.

“Please.” She let all her fear and worry show in her voice. “My father is just getting over the flu,” she said. “He needs his anti-flu medication. And he needs to rest.”

Chien Fou gestured to the guard whose gun barrel was back in Amelia’s side. “Get his medicine. Bring it to me.”

No . Just what she hoped wouldn’t happen. If Chien Fou saw her dad’s prescription bottle, he’d know he had a heart condition. She knew with intuitive certainty that the terrorist leader would have no patience with infirmity. She glanced desperately at Cole.