Target for treason, p.1
Target for Treason, page 1
Target For Treason
Laura Scott
Copyright © 2021 by Laura Scott
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Sealed with Courage
Chapter One
January 30 – 7:10 p.m. – Washington, DC
Lina Parker paused for a moment, glancing up and down the street that was illuminated by streetlights and the full moon. The Metro station she’d recently exited loomed behind her. She told herself the Asian man watching her over the top of his book was nothing more than her overactive imagination as there was no sign of him now. A gust of cold wind made her shiver, and she broke into a brisk walk. Her stomach was knotted with a myriad of emotions, from anticipation to anxiety.
Tonight, she’d meet a member of her mother’s family for the first time. Lina had been born in the US but was curious about her Chinese roots. She participated in several DNA websites, searching for family connections over the past two months, hoping to find someone she was even remotely related to. Having been born here in DC and losing her parents when she was young, she’d been raised by her father’s family. She truly loved her Parker grandparents, but they weren’t remotely interested in the Chinese culture. In fact, they’d given her the distinct impression they’d have preferred that she’d forget all about her mother’s heritage.
Stumbling across her mother’s sister was far more than she’d ever expected. It was exciting to meet a blood relative from her mother’s side of the family, especially to find one here in Washington, DC. Yet it was difficult not to be concerned as Shu Yan Chen had wanted to keep this rendezvous a secret. That odd request, which Shu Yan had refused to discuss further except in person, was largely why she’d let her imagination run wild during the subway ride.
Clearly, she needed to stop reading suspense novels.
When Lina reached the next intersection, she turned right and headed up toward Turtle Park.
Not for the first time, she thought it a strange location for a meeting. The place was in the process of being renovated, the large track front-loader and dump truck sitting idle in the middle of winter. The recent storm dumped a three-inch layer of pure white snow, some of which had begun to melt.
As she entered the park, her footsteps slowed. The area appeared completely deserted, likely the reason Shu Yan had chosen it. The woman’s need for secrecy was a bit concerning. Lina pulled the dark cap more firmly over her long dark hair as she searched for the trio of birch trees Shu Yan mentioned.
Turtle Park wasn’t that large. After walking another few minutes, she caught a glimpse of the trees on the other side of a large excavator digging machine. She stopped for a moment to see if Shu Yan was there yet.
A dark shadow moved, but from this distance, it was difficult to see if the person was her aunt. It must be, who else would be here?
Lina hurried around the excavator. Crack! The sharp report was louder than a firecracker, and it took her a moment to realize it was gunfire.
Someone was shooting at her!
Lina ducked beneath the excavator, using the steel machine for cover. Her palms were sweaty in her gloves, her heart pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. DC was known for its high crime rate, but this was ridiculous.
From beneath the excavator, she noticed the dark figure lying on the ground, just ten feet away.
She sucked in a harsh breath. A Chinese woman was lying in the snow, blood oozing from her temple, staining the white fluff a horrifying crimson.
No! Shu Yan! Stunned, Lina tried to understand what was going on. Why on earth would someone shoot her aunt? Was this why Shu Yan had wanted her to keep the meeting secret? Because someone was after her?
Why had she been targeted?
Another crack of gunfire echoed loudly. She heard something ping off the metal excavator mere inches from her head. Frantic, she crawled farther beneath the machine until she couldn’t see anyone or anything. Bile rose in the back of her throat as the seriousness of her situation hit hard.
The shooter hadn’t just taken out Shu Yan. He was intent on doing the same to her! But who? And why?
Lina cowered beneath the excavator, silently praying for strength as she fumbled with her phone. She was wedged so far beneath the excavator that she could barely get the phone out of her pocket. After what seemed like forever, she managed to get the device out and used one hand to dial 911.
“Hello, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“I’m in Turtle Park, someone is shooting at me!” She spoke in a hushed whisper, hoping the female dispatcher could hear her. “The same shooter has killed a woman named Shu Yan Chen.” Even to her own ears, the claim sounded incredulous. “I need help! I’m hiding beneath the excavator, please hurry!”
“I’ll send a team of officers to your location,” the operator said calmly. “Please stay on the line.”
“I can’t. They might hear me.” Lina disconnected from the call, her heart pounding frantically as she strained to listen. The eerie silence surrounding her was not at all reassuring. This far under the excavator, she couldn’t see anything, yet she felt certain the gunman was still out there, somewhere.
All she could do was pray the police would arrive before the shooter found a way to silence her, permanently.
* * *
January 30 – 7:18 p.m. – Washington, DC
Boyd Sinclair was doing his typical gym routine when his phone buzzed. He would have ignored it except for the fact that it was his new boss, Jordan Rashid from Security Specialists, Inc.
Muttering with annoyance, he halted his forty-ninth push-up to grab the device. He rolled to his feet, his biceps quivering from exertion, streams of sweat running freely down his face. “Sinclair.”
“Boyd, we have a problem.” Jordan Rashid and Sloan Dreyer were equal partners in Security Specialists, Inc., a company that offered a variety of special services to anyone willing to pay the exorbitant price they demanded. Based on several recent thwarted terrorist attempts, the company had received accolades from people as high up as the President of the United States and the Department of Defense along with the leaders in charge of the FBI, the NSA, and the CIA. In fact, the FBI and NSA were often the ones hiring the Security Specialists, Inc. team based on their skills in the field along with their language expertise.
He was the newest member of the team and eager to get to work. He’d met Jordan when the president had invited the entire Security Specialists, Inc. team to the White House to thank them for their service shortly after the threat during the inauguration last year. Jordan had overheard him speaking Chinese to a fellow agent and had instantly invited him to join his team. Boyd had turned down the offer, until he was forced to resign from the Secret Service. Now he was grateful to be able to continue protecting their freedom. While not perfect, the US government was better than anything else across the globe, and he’d sworn an oath, in the past and again now, to put his life on the line, to defend it. He toweled the sweat off his face. “What kind of problem?”
“Recent chatter from overseas indicates a possible but credible terroristic threat from a Chinese mafia organization known as the Six Red Dragons. Our company has been hired to dig into the threat.”
Boyd guzzled a bottle of water, wishing Jordan would get to the point. “I’m aware of the concern, so what’s the problem?”
“We’ve just learned of a professional hit against Shu Yan Chen, witnessed by Lina Parker who managed to call the police and escape unscathed.”
He straightened, his instincts going on alert. “Chen is a very common Chinese surname,” he cautioned. “This woman’s death may not be related to the Six Red Dragons faction of the Chinese mafia. I know there are rumors of Hui Genghis Chen being a part of the Dragons, but we don’t know for certain he is related to Shu Yan Chen.”
“Doesn’t matter, we’re taking this threat seriously. You need to get over to the Fifth Precinct and talk to the witness ASAP,” Jordan said. “I need you to take Lina Parker someplace safe for at least the next twenty-four hours. I’m waiting for Clarence Yates, the Director of the FBI, to get me more intel because I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“Got it.” Boyd wasn’t going to complain, after all, he’d rather be doing something constructive. The Secret Service had taught him patience, but he’d had just about all the standing around and watching he could take.
Not that his leaving the service had been a voluntary move on his part.
Keeping his military training sharp during the six years he’d been on the First Lady’s detail hadn’t been easy. The job d emanded a lot of time, which hadn’t provided lots of opportunities to hit the gym. After hearing what Jordan, Sloan, and Sun had been through over the past few years, he’d worked hard to get back in shape. This was a good time to put some of that training to use.
The urgency in Jordan’s tone convinced him to bypass a shower in favor of heading straight to the precinct. As he drove, he tried to figure out why Jordan believed this incident to be related to the Chinese mafia. Granted, the name Chen was a possible connection, but the name wasn’t unusual. There were tens of millions of Chinese citizens across the globe.
Unfortunately, gun violence had become commonplace across the country. What Jordan described wasn’t what he’d consider a mass shooting. One victim dead and one witness didn’t scream terrorist to him. Jordan’s suspicions seemed a bit over the top. There was no indication Lina was connected to the mafia, and he couldn’t fathom any reason why the Six Red Dragons would want to take out a woman. The Chinese mafia, much like the Chinese culture in general, didn’t put much importance on their women. Men held all the power within their family, their government, and their criminal organizations.
Then again, they killed women without thinking twice, so maybe there was a connection. He didn’t look Chinese, other than his dark hair, and his name was completely American. But he had spent enough time in China prior to his entering the military to know corruption was everywhere, even within the government.
And no matter what the president was trying to do, smoothing over the jagged relationship between their two countries, Boyd knew China was not really their friend and ally.
He made good time getting to the Fifth Precinct. Of course, the local cops weren’t that happy to have him show up, but he insisted on being taken to Lina Parker. The only thing he truly missed about the Secret Service was having the authority and credentials to instantly slice through red tape. The Security Specialists, Inc. ID Jordan had given him meant nothing to anyone within the police department.
Returning to the ordinary status of civilian took some getting used to.
“She’s in here.” The cop gestured to a small square room. “We’ve taken her statement, so she’s free to go.”
“Thanks.” Boyd opened the door and stepped in. For some reason, he was surprised to discover Lina Parker was a stunning Chinese American. Her almond skin was flawless, her green eyes bright. Her long, straight silky black hair must have come from her Chinese ancestors, but her facial features were definitely more American. She appeared pale and frightened, understandable considering the circumstances.
“Who are you?” She jumped to her feet, gathering her dark quilted jacket tightly around her torso. She had a black knit hat balled in her hand.
“Ms. Parker, my name is Boyd Sinclair.” He smiled, which usually put women at ease. “I’m here to take you someplace safe.”
“Safe?” She scoffed and tilted her chin. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. I just witnessed a murder, surely the police should be the ones to keep me safe.”
He tried not to sigh. “I’ll talk to the police about that, but you should know I work for a company that specializes in protecting people.” He took out his lame ID and showed it to her. “Please come with me.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a stranger. For all I know, you’re the shooter.”
He arched a brow, unable to argue with her logic. If the situation were reversed, he wouldn’t be so quick to leave with a strange guy either. “I’m not the shooter. What can I do to convince you my only goal is to keep you safe?”
She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “Get me some answers. The police refused to confirm that Shu Yan Chen is the woman who was shot despite what I saw with my own eyes. I deserve to know that much.”
He nodded. “And who was Shu Yan Chen to you?”
“My mother’s sister, although this was our first meeting. I found her using online DNA research sites.”
DNA research site? That tidbit of information was new. As was her blood relationship with the victim. “Okay, stay here. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
He left the room and found the cop who’d escorted him back there. “Hey, who’s in charge? I need information about the crime scene.”
The cop smirked. “Captain Rugg is in charge, but you’re not getting information about an active crime scene.”
Again, he wished he had his Secret Service creds. “Where can I find Rugg?”
“That way.” The cop jutted his chin to a small office marked Captain, then turned away.
Boyd crossed over and knocked on the partially open door. Without waiting for a response, he poked his head in. “Captain Rugg?”
“Yeah?” The guy scowled. “You better not be a reporter.”
“No, sir.” The captain’s derision wasn’t unusual, reporters were the bane of every government and civil servant employee’s existence. After what had happened while he was in the service, Boyd shared the captain’s feelings. “I’ve been asked to escort Ms. Parker to safety, but I’d like to know about the female victim you found at the crime scene. I believe she has been identified as Ms. Shu Yan Chen?”
The captain sat back, eyeing him thoughtfully. “You look familiar. Are you sure you’re not a reporter?”
“Never. My name is Boyd Sinclair. I used to be with the Secret Service on the First Lady’s detail.”
“Ah, I remember.” A gleam entered the captain’s eyes. “There was a big write-up about how you failed to notice a crazy man who tried to stab her until it was almost too late.”
“That’s correct.” He hoped his face wasn’t turning red with embarrassment. Nothing like having your biggest failure put out for the entire world to see. Thank you, media. “I work for Security Specialists, Inc. now, and we have a vested interest in the female victim, Shu Yan Chen. If you could just confirm her identity and let me know when the autopsy will be completed, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“There was no victim.” The captain’s tone was blunt. “No evidence of blood either. There was a small snowman built near a trio of birch trees, which seemed odd, but nothing else to indicate a crime had happened. If you ask me, the so-called witness you’re taking home is a nutjob. For all we know, she made the snowman.”
Stunned, Boyd stared at him. “You’re sure there was no victim and no evidence of a murder?”
“I still have techs combing the scene, but if they don’t come up with something soon, I’m pulling them out of Turtle Park. Besides, who sets up a meeting in a park undergoing renovations anyway?” The captain waved an impatient hand. “I don’t have time or manpower to waste on some crazy woman’s imaginary problems.”
“Thanks for the information.” Grappling with this news, he turned and walked back to the small interview room. It didn’t make any sense. Jordan had sent him to protect Lina Parker based on the victim being Shu Yan Chen and the possible connection to the Six Red Dragons faction of the Chinese mafia.
No victim meant no crime and no threat to the witness.
Only, he didn’t believe it. The whole scenario carried the stench of a cover-up. Yeah, color him paranoid, but no way did he think Lina Parker made up this story. She wasn’t wrong about what she’d seen. The stark fear in her eyes hadn’t been fake, she’d clearly been terrified. And he felt certain the snowman had been created to cover the disturbed snow.
Thinking about it further, he remembered Lina’s black jeans and jacket had been damp and stained with mud too. She’d hit the ground for a reason, not because of some made-up story.
He quickened his pace and threw open the door to the small interview room.
It was empty.
Where was Lina?
Boyd spun on his heel and strode quickly through the police station. He’d left his weapon in the car, knowing they’d make him lock it up anyway, so he didn’t stop until he was outside the precinct.
