FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

 

KILLER ON THE LOOSE

Chapter 12 – Emily Stone

 

The cell phone disconnected.

Emily rehashed the conversation with Nick and wished that he had given her more information. There was still hope that the girls were still alive.

“Em?” Rick interrupted. “What’s going on?” his tone was civil and even, but it had a definite sternness to it. His usual somber stare tried to read Emily’s face.

“Karl Saxon,” she replied. It didn’t make any sense to her, but she was going to get to the bottom of it.

“Who is Karl Saxon?” Rick insisted.

Ignoring the question, Emily turned and hurried back toward the compound.

“Emily!” Ricked yelled after her. “We only have about ten, maybe fifteen minutes, before the cops arrive.”

“That will have to be enough time,” she gritted her teeth and ran faster.

Rick didn’t have any other choice but to follow Emily.

“You have inside information from the FBI? From who? How?” Rick rapidly fired more questions at her. “How long have you been in contact with them?”

“I’ll fill you in on everything later—I promise,” was the only thing Emily managed to say.

The couple made it to the storage building in two minutes where the two restrained men waited.

Emily stormed the building and quickly decided which man she wanted. “Unhook him and stand him up,” she ordered Rick.

She felt her anger rise. She wasn’t going to let those girls die.

The man with a dark beard waited while Rick unfastened him, stood him up, and pushed him against the wall. It was the first time the captive showed any emotion—even if it was only mild distress mixed with idle curiosity.

Emily began, “Who are you working for?” She retrieved her weapon, but didn’t aim it at him.

The man blinked and looked past her.

No response.

“I said, who are you working for?” she demanded.

He slowly focused on her, eyes steady, but remained quiet.

Rick took a step forward and Emily stopped him.

Emily decided to take a different approach. She holstered her weapon and took a step closer to the man—inches from his face. “I know you—I know everything about you.”

The man snickered and kept his steady gaze on her.

“Yes, I do know all about you… from Karl Saxon.”

The man twitched slightly and his demeanor became stiff at the mention of Saxon—now there was fear in his eyes.

“See we’re on the same page.” Emily took out her phone and played the men’s previous conversation she had recorded. “What do you want to bet everything I need to know came directly from your mouth.”

“No,” replied the man. His breathing became shallow.

“What do you think Karl Saxon is going to say about it?” Emily laughed and searched his face. She caught the man’s gaze and demanded. “Where are the girls?”

The man looked away, clearly hiding information.

Emily took a step back, “They’re here,” she stated softly. “They’re here,” she said again.

“What?” Rick asked. “How do you know?”

She moved to the door. “Something wasn’t right about the house. It seemed staged.”

“Em, we have less than five minutes.”

Emily ignored Rick and raced to the main house.

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

                                                                 Chapter 11: Nick Bracco          

 

                Nick pushed the contact button and put the phone to his ear.  He knew Emily Stone was in pursuit of a couple of missing teenage girls and his assassin suggested he knew where they were. 

                “Nick,” Emily answered.  “You have good news for me?”

                “I’m afraid not,” Nick said.  He watched the empty bus sit there while the number of police and FBI agents began to dwindle  The imminent danger had subsided and so was the interest.

                “Then what about this briefcase and the connection to the girls?”

               

                 Nick sighed.  “I have an known assassin who’s willing to give me their location if I release a prisoner as an exchange.”

                “And?”

                “I’m sorry.  The prisoner is a lifer.  In for triple homicide.  We can’t do it.”

                There was a prolonged silence while Emily seemed to assess the setback to finding her missing girls.  Nick turned to see the young kid from the bus sitting under a tree looking at Nick with an anxiousness that Nick had recognized from twenty years in law enforcement.  He was hiding something.

                “Nick you have to help me.”

                “ I do have something that might help you.  Something that wasn’t mentioned in the media.  The assassin’s name is Karl Saxon.  Maybe you could use that in your interrogation.”

                “Can’t you get me a clue as a good faith gesture from this Saxon?  Even if you could get me what state they’re in.”

                “It’s a thought,” Nick said mindlessly, watching the kid swivel his head searching for an escape plan.  “Let me get back to you,” he said, then shoved the phone back into his pocket and headed toward his innocent looking passenger.

                As Nick approached, the boy was scooting back as if he could climb the tree backwards.  A Baltimore policeman stood guard over the kid and Nick waved him off.  “It’s okay,” he said.  “I’ve got him now.”

                Once they were alone, Nick took a knee next to the young bundle of nerves and said, “You forgot to tell me something.”

                The boys eyes widened.  “I did?”

                Nick nodded, but said nothing.

                “Like what?” the boy said gripping a handful of grass in each hand.

                “Like something about this terrorist you’re keeping to yourself.”

                “Terrorist?  Are you saying the guy’s a terrorist?  I thought he was some guy who wanted to leave you a message?”

                Nick cocked his head.  “And how did you know he wanted to leave me a message?”

                The kid was flush up against the tree and gasping as he tried to come up with the words.

                “I . . . I don’t know,” he stammered.  “I thought I saw you get a note.”

                Nick glared.  “You saw me open a piece of paper.  I never told you it was a message from the terrorist.”

                “Yeah, but—”

                “No buts,” Nick said, then gestured for a nearby patrolman.  “I’m going to have you taken downtown and interviewed by some of our finest police officers while I try to find this guy.”

                As Nick walked over to the officer, the boy panicked.  “No!  You can’t do that.  I didn’t do anything.”

                Nick looked over his shoulder.  “Tell that to them.  I too busy.”

                “Please,” the kid tried to scream, but in a hushed tone.  “Don’t leave.” 

                Nick understood.  The boy was terrified to be without his one pal in law enforcement.  He strode over to the kid and got down to a knee again.  “You have something you want to tell me?”

                The young kid’s eyes darted from the bus to Nick then back to the bus.  In a soft whisper the boy said, “He’s still inside the bus.” 

               

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

 

KILLER ON THE LOOSE

Chapter 10 – Emily Stone

 

Emily followed Rick as they hiked west to intersect the trail leading to their SUV.

She hurried in silence climbing steep areas. The exercise felt good and relieved some of her sore muscles. The more distance between her and the compound the better. She flashed back on the crates of weapons and boxes of computer parts.

Rick had anonymously sent texts and alerts to the local law enforcement as well as the local branch of the FBI to retrieve the two men and confiscate the military weapons. The information included photos and the exact location of the property—the couple’s anonymous investigative protocol.

With everything Emily had witnessed at the property, nothing weighed heavier on her mind than the breaking news in DC. She immediately relayed everything to Rick about the missing girls and the bomb scare—but it wasn’t everything.

Emily never kept anything from Rick—ever.

She recognized Agent Nick Bracco from the news coverage and knew that he worked the terrorism division of the FBI. Several years before, she had met him before the trial in Indiana where she had to testify against fellow officers from the Crestview County Sheriff’s Department—before coming to California and meeting Rick. The fallout after the trial had ended her career as a deputy sheriff, but she reinvented herself as a covert vigilante detective after an incident.

Since then, and as far as anyone knew, she was legally dead. Very few people knew that she was still alive, but Bracco knew. Emily had contacted him a few times over the past few years for information on some of her cases.

“You okay?” asked Rick.

Emily looked at him and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“You look like you have a lot on your mind—more than usual.”

“Thinking about our next move,” she explained.

“Maybe our info was wrong?” Rick clearly wrestled with the facts leading them to this location.

“I don’t think so…”

“Is the kidnapping some kind of political maneuver or some type of exchange for someone or something else?”

“I’m not sure. I have to reevaluate everything. But I believe the girls are still alive.”

“Are you really okay?” his dark eyes searched Emily’s face.

“I’m just worried about the girls. We’ve never had a case intersect with something of this nature. It concerns me…”

Emily walked ahead and continued to the area where the SUV waited. She didn’t want to face more conflict until she had time to think.

Rick continued, “What I can’t figure out… why would the kidnapper go to such extremes with the bomb scare in DC?” he stopped and turned to Emily. “And what does it have to do with us?” 

Emily’s phone buzzed. She retrieved it from her pocket and stared at the caller ID.

The name identified Nick Bracco as the caller.

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

                               Chapter 9: Nick Bracco

         

               

                “Do you know who he’s talking about?” Matt asked.

                Nick nodded.  “Emily Stone is searching for a couple of California girls.  I think she’s out in the Midwest somewhere.”

                “So how does he know where they are?”

                “The better question is—What does he want for the information?”

                “Good point.”

                They were standing next to the scrubbed bus and trying to figure out their next move when Nick’s phone buzzed.  He looked at the display and put the phone to his ear.  “What’s up Walt?”

                “I have someone on the line who wants to speak with you.”

                “Let me guess.  Karl Saxon?”

                “You should be an investigator.  I’ll patch him through.”

                The next voice Nick heard was rich with sarcasm.  “You ever wonder why I’m taking you on a wild goose chase?’

                “The thought occurred to me.”

                “Because I’m offering you the deal of a lifetime.  The chance to save a couple of lives.”

                “And what would you like in return?”

                “Release Jackson Eckles from prison.  He’s at the state prison in Florence, Arizona.”

                “Who the heck is  Jackson Eckles?”

                “Exacty.  He’s a nobody who happens to be a good friend.  An easy exchange.  Should take you all of ten seconds to approve.”

                “I need find out his details first.”

                “Do it.  I’ll call back in then minutes.”

                The cell call terminated.  “He wants a prisoner released in exchange for the location of the missing teenagers,” Nick told his partner.

                Matt was checking something on his phone.  “Emily Stone is in Mason City, Iowa.”

                Nick returned the cell to his ear and said, “I’ll get with Emily.  You check the status of a prisoner named  Jackson Eckles, in Florence, Arizona.”

                “Jackson Eckles?”

                “You know him?”

                “No,” Matt said.  “But I will.”

               

 

                               

            

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

KILLER ON THE LOOSE

Chapter 8 – Emily Stone

 

Emily and Rick secured the two men inside the storage building. Their wrists and ankles were fastened with zip ties and then affixed through metal rings on the wall. The men weren’t going anywhere before cops arrived. They remained quiet and rarely looked at the couple.

Emily thought it was strange that they complied so easily and did not protest.

“You good?” Emily asked Rick. She was anxious to leave the property.

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to search the house for anything about the girls,” she checked her ammunition out of habit rather than necessity. “Give me a few minutes before contacting the cops and FBI.”

She hurried toward the door.

“Okay,” Rick slowly replied, still staring at the two men. “Em?” he said and shrugged.

Emily stopped and turned.

“Be careful,” he warned.

She thought it was out of character for Rick to express that sentiment in the middle of their investigation.

Emily forced a smile and then jogged to the main house.

It was actually a manufactured home, which had been set up on property in several pieces. It was more of a rectangle box that had uneven connections at the outer corners. It appeared to have been assembled recently. There were stickers still attached to the trim areas and windows.

Emily slowed her pace on approach.

She stood for a moment and surveyed the house.

Nothing unusual.

Taking a moment to jog around the structure, Emily made sure that there weren’t any type of cameras, booby traps, or security devices.

It seemed staged.

Automatically she retrieved her Glock and took the safety off.

Emily stood at the front door, grasped the doorknob with her left hand, and turned it. Pushing the door slowly open, the interior was dim and stuffy. None of the windows were open and no air conditioning flowed.

A light flickered in the corner from a muted television.

Emily cautiously entered the house and quickly cleared the living room, kitchen, and the two bedrooms. There was no sign of the missing girls, or any incriminating evidence that they were ever at the location.

How could their information have been so wrong?

Dishes in the sink, cigarettes in an ashtray, sparse thrift store furniture, and empty liquor bottles were the only remnants of anyone living in the house. Closets and cupboards were empty. The beds did not look slept in recently.

Who did these guys work for?

These thoughts plagued Emily as she moved closer to the TV. The regular program was interrupted by a news report.

It read across the bottom of the screen in bold letters: Breaking News from Washington DC as FBI Bomb Squad searches a local city bus.   

The story unfolding caught Emily’s immediate attention. She watched as video clips showed different angles of the bus, bomb squad techs, bystanders, a young anxious teenager, and an agitated FBI Agent talking with another agent.

Emily holstered her weapon. She saw the TV remote on the coffee table, snatched it up, and quickly activated the sound.

A field reporter interrupted the chaos and narrated with a cheerful voice, “As you can see behind me that the DC Bomb Squad has been called in to investigate an allegedly suspicious briefcase that had been left on the city bus, but we have been informed that there was no bomb and no indication of a terrorist threat.”

The young dark-haired reporter pressed her earpiece firmly with her fingers and listened for a moment, her eyes wide. She continued, “Our news station has just received an update from an anonymous source that the briefcase has possibly a connection to two teenage girls that went missing from San Jose, California three days ago. We do not have the girl’s names at this time, nor do we know if they are connected in any way to the briefcase on the bus. We will keep you informed as new information becomes available.”

Emily’s heart pounded as she listened to the reporter.

It had to be a mistake or a joke.

She and Rick had been covertly searching for Maya Reynolds, 15, and Sydney Atherton, 14, who disappeared from a mall in San Jose, California three days ago. Their investigation and solid leads brought them to this property in Iowa where there was no sign of the girls.

Emily felt anxiety rise from her core and it made it difficult to breathe—the restriction made her slightly dizzy.

She tossed the remote and retreated from the house to meet Rick. They had to leave the property as soon as possible.

It wasn’t just a dead end in the investigation—it was a possible trap and they walked right into the middle of it.

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

                                               Chapter 7: Nick Bracco

 

They cleared an entire city block while the bomb squad sent a robot onto the bus.  Nick spent most of his time interviewing the one kid who remained until the final stop, while Matt interviewed the bus driver.  The kid was suspicious of everything Nick asked and wanted to lawyer up until Nick convinced the youngster he didn’t care if he was carrying drugs or weapons.  Nick would not ask to search his backpack under any circumstance.

 “I wasn’t doing nothing wrong,” the boy said with conviction.

 “We know,” Nick said, kneeling down next to the boy while he sat under the shade of a tree.  “There was a very bad man on that bus and that’s who we’re chasing.  It’s very important that you tell me everything you can about him.”

 “Which one?”

 “The dark-haired guy who got on the bus at 4th street.  He was carrying a briefcase.”

 The was recognition on the kid’s face.  “You mean the guy who got on the bus and the left?”

 

“Is that what he did.  Did he come onto the bus and leave before the bus took off?”

 “Yeah, he acted like he’d forgotten something and got off right away.”

 “Did you happen to notice him carrying a briefcase?”

 The boy seemed relaxed now that he was convinced the conversation wasn’t about him.  “Man, I do remember the dude walking past me with a briefcase, but now that you mention it, I don’t remember him leaving with it.  Is that important?”

 “Very.”

 The kid looked over Nick’s shoulder at the bomb squad technicians wearing their protective gear.  Oversized Kevlar with titanium shields.  He said, “Is that what they’re looking at right now?  Did he leave a bomb on the bus?”

 “That’s a possibility, yes.”

 “Aw, dude, I had no idea.  I would’ve kept closer attention.”

 A beefy bomb technician wearing a bulky blast suit stiff-legged his way over to Nick.  When he was a few feet away, he removed his full-face helmet and said, “The bus is clear, Agent Bracco.  There’s no bomb inside the briefcase.”

 “Whoa,” said the kid.  “That’s good.”

 “So what’s inside the briefcase?” Nick asked.

 The bomb tech handed Nick a slip of paper.

 Nick opened the paper and read the note:

 I know where Stone’s missing girls are.

         

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

KILLER ON THE LOOSE

Chapter 6 – Emily Stone

The increasing fatigue travelled down her arms as Emily gripped the gun.

She anticipated the assault.

The heavy gunfire ceased with only a small spray of bullets in several directions around her before it stopped completely. The men stopped their pursuit; it appeared they reevaluated their search.

The rising humidity fought against Emily’s awareness as she quickly wiped her sweaty hands on her cargo pants. She pressed her back harder against the cool rock to steady her nerves and focus on the imminent danger.

The landscape became quiet— unnervingly quiet. The birds were silent, no wings fluttering in the trees, and the breeze ran out of energy, not a leaf moved. The only constant thing was the humidity, which remained high and invading.

Emily licked her dry lips waiting in expectation for the next heavy barrage of bullets.

Nothing.

She tried to readjust her headset, hoping to hear static or the sound of Rick’s voice, but she only heard silence. Daring to peek around the rock formation, Emily eyed the trail of approach.

Where did they go?

She strained to hear any sound out of the ordinary, footsteps, crunching of leaves, winded breathing, soft conversation—anything.

What are they doing?

Still staying in a crouched position, Emily moved carefully from her location to gain a better vantage. The trees and surroundings looked normal. She stood up straight, still with her weapon directed and ready, cautiously sidestepping to move into another area away from the previous path.

She gained momentum and a confidence, hurrying down a makeshift pathway to view building location. She knew that she should continue uphill and move west to meet Rick, but her drive and concern to locate the missing girls overrode strict protocol.

Emily’s internal conversation was interrupted by shouts—first it was several men’s voices. She immediately recognized Rick’s authoritative tone. “Drop your weapons and show me your hands now!” he yelled.

Emily hurried downhill, careful not to stumble and fall. She ran as fast as she dared to in order to reach Rick. Disturbing thoughts raced through her mind of what might happen if she did not reach the location in time.

Reaching the bottom, Emily saw Rick holding one of the automatic weapons directed at the men—his shotgun lay on the ground next to him. The men were on their knees with their hands laced behind their heads.

“Rick,” Emily said breathlessly. “How’d you…”

“I had them in my sights after the alarm went off.”

Emily kept her Glock trained at the men. “Where are they?” she demanded.

The two men looked straight ahead, not moving, and ignored Emily’s question.

“I said…” she began as she confronted the first man by pushing her weapon into his face. “Where are the two girls?”

The man remained quiet.

“Em, secure them.”

“I want to know where the girls are!”

Rick lowered his tone, “Secure them and we’ll search the property before we alert authorities.”

Emily let out a breath clearly frustrated. She pulled several plastic zip ties from her cargo pant pocket and restrained the men—both wrists and ankles. She didn’t care that she pulled the ties too tight and hoped that it was uncomfortable.

“Keep an eye on them. I’m going to check this storage building.” Emily knew that the alarm was deactivated and there was no chance of a repeat of events.

Rick nodded and stood guard, taking the situation very seriously.

Emily hurried to the building. She stood at the entrance for a moment, hesitating, before she moved toward one of the tarps. 

She flung back the covering and revealed various types computer parts. It was not entire computers like laptops and desktops, but boxed parts of motherboards, internal drives, memory cards, and various controller drivers.

Emily quickly documented the inventory with her phone and personally viewed everything in the storage area. There was no sign of the missing girls or any indication that they had been there.

She returned to Rick and reported, “No sign of the girls.”

“What’s in there?” he asked. “More weapons?”

“No, computer parts, all kinds,” she stated. She watched for any reaction from the two men.

Nothing.

“What the hell… why are they storing computer parts in a secure building?”

Emily added, “We need to find out who is behind this and where the girls are.”

“The bigger question is what were they going to do with the computer parts and explosives?”

FBI AGENT NICK BRACCO AND INDEPENDENT CRIME FIGHTER EMILY STONE ARE CHASING A KILLER. MONDAYS ARE NICK BRACCO'S CHAPTER, THURSDAYS ARE EMILY STONE

                                                     Chapter 5: Nick Bracco

 

  There were flashing red and white lights in the distance charging toward the bus.  In his peripheral vision Nick could detect unmarked sedans maneuvering around slow-moving city traffic .

                “What’s going on?” Matt asked, gripping the steering wheel with clenched fists.

                Nick was immediately on his phone.  “What’s happening,  Walt?”

                “We received an email bomb threat five minutes ago,” Walt Jackson said.  “I can’t allow innocent people to get in the way of our operation.  Go get him now.”

                Nick  put the phone down and watched a cascade of sedans with flashing lights converging on the bus.  One sedan pinched the bus toward the curb while five others surrounded the vehicle in a random display of power.  Plainclothes FBI agents jumped out of their cars with guns drawn,  crouched low and ready for the hostage situation to develop. 

                Nick and Matt hopped out of the SUV and carefully approached the bus from the door side of the transport vehicle.  The bus driver was a round figure behind the wheel  sitting still with his head on a swivel searching for the danger he knew was present.    

                Nick was close enough now to see that the only visible passenger was an African American male who stood with his arms in the air as if he were guilty and didn’t want to be shot.  He moved to the doorway of the bus and shouted, “Please don’t shoot!”

                Something was wrong.

                Nick quickly ran to the kid’s side and put his arms around the frightened teen.  “Relax,” Nick said, “no one’s going to harm you.  You’re safe.”

                “Please, I didn’t do nothing wrong,” the kid stammered.

                “We know,” Nick said, escorting the kid away from the bus.  “You’re not in trouble.”

                “You promise?”

                “I promise,” Nick said, watching Matt lead the team onto the bus, his gun out and ready.  Once the kid was far enough away from the action, Nick asked, “Who else is left on the bus?”

                The boy’s eyes were wide with anxiety, as if any wrong answer would cost him his life.  “Just me and the driver.  That’s all.”

                Something was definitely wrong.            

                Nick saw the bus driver waddle down the ramp while two agents helped him to the curb.  There were agents shouting to pedestrians to move away from the scene as Matt made quick-twitch moves inside the tight quarters of the bus, searching for the assassin. 

                Nick’s temple pounded as he watched Matt duck down, then raise up, checking under each of the seats.  Nick handed over the frightened teenager to another agent instructing him to protect the kid until Nick returned.

                That’s when Matt scurried backward toward the front of the bus, shoving a team member to move quicker  as he kept glancing over his shoulder.

                When Matt finally jumped out of the bus, he screamed, “Call the bomb squad!”