Invisible goodbye, p.1
Invisible Goodbye, page 1
part #7 of Enigma Series
INVISIBLE GOODBYE – ENIGMA SERIES BOOK VII
Copyright © 2020 - Tierney James
Cover Design by Sweet ’N Spicy Designs
All cover art copyright © 2020 – Tierney James
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.
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Publishing Coordinator – Sharon Kizziah-Holmes
Paperback-Press
an imprint of A & S Publishing
A & S Holmes, Inc.
“Invisible Goodbye starts off like a rocket and gains altitude rapidly. Fans of the Enigma Series will not be disappointed with Tierney James’ latest offering.” J.C. Fields, Award Winning and Amazon Best Selling Author of The Sean Kruger Series and his latest release, A Lone Wolf.
“The next in the Enigma series delivers an exciting read, explosive and captivating. Memories of Afghanistan and the intrigue of Russia weave together to remind Tessa that the world is a dangerous place. And it's up to her to save it. I couldn't turn the pages fast enough!” Lori L. Robinett, author of the psychological thriller series, Widow’s Web.
“Tierney James is at her absolute best bringing an action-packed tale that makes you feel like you are in the middle of Russia on a secret mission and leaves you breathless.” DeDe Ramey, author of the Dalton Skies series.
“Tierney James takes all the twists and turns of this latest adventure, Invisible Goodbye, at a high rate of speed.” Willy Robbins, Children’s Author-Reading Teacher
Dedication
Dedicated to the men and women
who protect us from unseen dangers and corrupt governments. Because of them, we remain free.
Acknowledgments
This is when I get to thank all those amazing people who assisted in the transformation of an idea that keeps me awake at night and helps me turn it into another Enigma adventure. Invisible Goodbye took me to a land I’ve always wanted to visit; Russia. I learned so much in the process of writing this story for you. I hope you enjoy it.
Paperback Press – This is an amazing Indie-Assist company led by Sharon Kizziah-Holmes. Not only can I feel confident that the book will be produced in a beautiful and professional way, I know they will be there for me whenever I need some hand-holding with various vendors that sell my books. I couldn’t do it without Sharon. Find out more about what they do at https://paperback-press.com/ Tell them I sent you!
Kate Richards – I had already written two Enigma novels when Kate became my editor. She pushed and shoved me into being a much better writer. Her witty comments and belief in my work has encouraged me to never give up.
Jaycee DeLorenzo – Thanks to Jaycee for always creating a beautiful book cover for me. She has this ability to figure out what I want even when I don’t know. Sweet & Spicey Designs has never let me down.
Michael Byars Lewis – Now a military thriller writer, Michael was a former AC-130U 'Spooky' Gunship Evaluator Pilot. He spent eighteen years in the Air Force Special Operations Command. A twenty-five-year Air Force pilot, he has flown special operations combat missions in Bosnia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. He is currently a pilot for a major U.S. airline. Thanks to him he helped me fly an airbus into an Alaskan airport to save the Enigma team. Without his help, pilots everywhere would still be laughing at my feeble attempts at landing that big bird.
Mary Pat Kelly Tierney – When my characters have a medical emergency or I want to give them a medical complication, Mary Pat is my go-to gal. She gives me the courage to fix gunshot wounds, perform transfusions, and keep them alive long enough to fight another day. With 31 years as an ER trauma nurse and ED certified all that time, she became part of a pilot program for an advanced triage area needed due to the number of patients. Besides all that, Mary Pat spent14 years as a Family Practice Nurse Practitioner.
Lipstick & Danger Support Staff – These ladies have been with me almost from the beginning of this writing journey. They read advance copies to help me find mistakes, use social media to get the word out about a new release, help me decide on book covers, and encourage me to keep writing. What would I do without you guys?
Readers – Of course, you are the stars in my heart. Without you, I wouldn’t have an audience to entertain. Thank you for believing in me and being patient between each new release. Your devotion and friendship mean so much.
Chapter One
Darkness always felt eternal flying over the ocean at night. The lights had been dimmed several hours earlier. Most passengers were asleep in spite of the twenty minutes of turbulence earlier in the flight. The occasional flash of distant lightning reminded him the plane remained at 34,000 feet. This comforted Joel Sandy as he clicked on the video screen embedded in the back of the seat in front of him.
He’d always enjoyed watching the flight path of the plane as it moved along the lines of latitude on the virtual map. Noting the wind speed, altitude, weather forecast, and various other statistics most of his friends ignored, gave him pleasure and a certain amount of comfort that all was right in the world.
Since he had an aisle seat, he stretched out one of his long legs then eased out to stand up and use the restroom one more time before slipping on comfy socks to put him in the mood. He could feel the antihistamine he’d taken an hour earlier start to take effect. When he returned to his seat, he fished out the sleep mask provided to all first-class ticket holders.
For a few seconds, he felt his body tilt to the right as if the plane made a turn. He glanced at the screen again to check their location. The plane gently moved away from the route he’d expected in order to reach their morning stop in Dubai. He pushed the call button.
“Yes, sir?” The flight attendant had boarded the plane ahead of the passengers. He’d noticed her and how she didn’t appear to resemble a citizen from Singapore but maybe Central Asia. “I didn’t expect you to still be awake?” Her smile grew taut.
“According to the map, we are turning north. Is there a problem?”
“Not at all. Only an adjustment. There’s a storm up ahead, and the pilot wishes to avoid any turbulence.”
Suddenly the plane bounced as if it were losing altitude. “Something is wrong.”
“Please buckle up. I’ll go check it out.”
He kept watch on the plane moving across the map while sleep caressed his fears until his eyelids began to feel heavy. He spotted the flight attendant talking to a man who sat up front. She pointed toward Joel, and the man dressed in a military uniform eased out of his seat, straightened his jacket then moved down the aisle and squatted down by him. The attendant followed.
“I think it is okay. He’s almost out.” The soldier stood and grimaced at the attendant. “This will soon be over. Maybe you can regain your place of honor in our glorious country.”
“Nothing would please me more, General.”
Joel tried to call out to the others, but his voice wouldn’t work or the rest of his body. Had he been poisoned or medicated? With his sight starting to fade, he watched the small airplane on the map disappear before the screen went dark. His first thought was they were going to crash. When he awoke, he realized a different nightmare had occurred, creating real-life consequences.
President Buck Austin sat down for a late lunch with a few of the ambassadors from Western Europe. He’d decided they needed a “Come to Jesus” speech about their support of NATO and their monetary contributions. The United Nations Ambassador, Talala Jamison, also attended to make her case for greater support for sanctions against Russia, Iran, and North Korea.
The president’s chief of staff entered and bent down to whisper in his ear. He stood and motioned for everyone to begin eating. “A matter needs my attention, and I promise to return as soon as possible.” The president rose from his seat, made a couple of jokes, and left with his chief of staff.
“Just give it to me straight,” he ordered in his no-nonsense manner when irritated.
The chief of staff remained standing as the president leaned against his desk in the Oval Office and crossed his arms. “A plane went missing several hours ago on its flight from Singapore. About twenty of the two hundred passengers were Americans.”
“Was it a terrorist attack?” The president knew he should be used to such incidents, but it never got easy, knowing precious lives were lost due to a crazed individual who had no respect for human life.
“We are still getting information. The Pentagon has been alerted, sir.”
“The
“Those twenty Americans were some of our best scientists and engineers. They were working with DARPA and the Pentagon on a revolutionary cloaking device for our military aircraft and body armor for combat. The project was nearing completion. Several had traveled to Singapore for a conference, and afterward a few visited relatives in neighboring countries. Others were also guest lecturers at universities. All of them met up yesterday to return to the States and their work.”
“Are they the only ones working on the project?” The president knew he should care more about the possible loss of life than a protected government project—but he didn’t. “And did it not occur to anyone at DARPA sending twenty scientists and engineers to Asia was a bad idea? There are times I suspect they don’t have enough sense to wad a shotgun,” he drawled in his Texas accent.
“Yes, sir. They were working in conjunction with DARPA but not exclusively. Jango International Aeronautics out of New Mexico was contracted through the Pentagon for the bulk of the project.”
“Then we didn’t lose everyone?”
The chief of staff checked his notes. “We don’t know yet, Mr. President.”
“Find the numbskull who does know,” he shouted. “Whoever is responsible for the screw…” He gritted his teeth before continuing. “Here is what I want to know: what happened to that plane, who was responsible, and who the hell let so many brains leave the country? Am I clear?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“And when you find the idiot who let them leave, drag his ass in here so I can rip him a new one. And I want this on my desk by tonight,” he fumed as he walked to the door. “Now I’m going to have a nice lunch and suggest our so-called ‘allies’ get ready for trouble. Hopefully, the plane sank to the bottom of the ocean and not in a third world hellhole selling our people to the highest bidder.”
“Mr. President, if they are still alive, what will be your orders?”
The president stopped as his hand squeezed the doorknob. He glanced down at the floor then back at the chief of staff. “The official report will be they all died. Do you understand?”
The chief of staff tilted his head and paled. “Are you sure, Mr. President?”
The president pulled back his shoulders and opened the door. “Do it.”
Chapter Two
The frigid air and clear sky reminded Darya Petrov of the Wakhan Valley in Afghanistan. With the snow piled along the curb and dim streetlights along both sides of the street, it took only a few seconds to remember home remained far away. The snow muffled the light traffic this time of night. It didn’t compare with the quiet in the land of his mother or Montana where his Russian father had taken him for a better life and more opportunities.
He stood staring toward Lake Baikal as he adjusted his Siberian jacket and slowly let the flaps down on his ushanka hat of rabbit fur. Taking such luxury back to the village on the rooftop of the world, for the khan, might make the man’s life easier, certainly warmer. Temperatures were dropping and soon it would be in the teens. The moon dipped behind clouds as a round of flurries dressed the scene before him to resemble a Christmas card. Tessa would love this, he decided.
He’d come here to gather intel for Enigma and the CIA, but he’d decided to abandon that folly soon after he arrived. Playing by the rules had never been his strong suit, and he thought making them sweat about where he had disappeared to and what he might be up to sounded a great deal more entertaining. To acquaint himself with his father’s homeland, he took the Trans-Siberian Railroad and ended up in a place he never expected to find.
He’d left the train in Irkutsk and made his way east by whatever means he could find until he reached the Siberian forests around Lake Baikal. Although the land was covered in thick forests around most of Lake Baikal, it reminded him of both his homes, especially the one in Montana. His Russian sounded nearly fluent, and he met several families who took him in and fed him in exchange for him chopping wood and sharing chores with the men.
The decision to backpack into the remote areas around Lake Baikal helped put things into perspective concerning Tessa Scott. He decided to move forward with the information he’d come by accidently and eliminate the man called Robert. Captain Hunter would be next, and he would remove him from the picture with extreme prejudice.
He stumbled across what appeared to be an extravagant airplane hangar and a great deal of activity going on inside and out. Military guarded the area. From his position, Darya pulled out his binoculars and quickly ascertained something had gone terribly wrong. A soldier dragged a man in a white lab coat to an open area before giving him a hard shake. The intimidation started with yelling in his face as the lab-coat man cowered and tried to back away. Next came a blow to his head with the butt of the soldier’s rifle. He slung his rifle to his shoulder and appeared to give orders to a few nearby soldiers who dragged him to a truck by the collar before throwing him in the back.
Darya decided to follow along the ridge. When he fell behind, their vehicle could be spotted heading toward a remote section of Lake Baikal. Even this time of year, without snow on the ground, it was still cold. Riding in the back of a truck, without protection, could kill a man if he got hypothermia before they had time to do whatever they planned for him.
They didn’t waste time at the lake. He had circled around, hiding in the trees to avoid being spotted. Once they disappeared from sight, Darya made his way to the water’s edge. He scanned the shoreline until he spotted a white lab coat floating in the water. Inching out of the trees, he spotted a half-naked man facedown against several large rocks.
He dropped his backpack and crouched to inch forward. His first impression was the man had already died either of exposure or a beating. Blood matted the hair at the back of his head. But a moan, followed by a slight attempt at pushing himself up, resulted in another collapse.
Darya checked the man’s pulse then the bloody wound. He hadn’t been shot, so maybe he could survive if he got him warm. “Hello. Can you stand?” Darya spoke in Russian as he rolled the man to a sitting position.
“I. I don’t speak. I don’t speak Russian.”
Darya stood to survey his surroundings for trouble. “Are you an American?” he asked in English.
Would the man slip into shock as he shivered uncontrollably? “Yes,” he said through chattering teeth. His lips were turning blue.
“I’ll take you to safety so you can get warm. I have a camp nearby. Can you stand?”
Darya had found an abandoned one-room cabin when he’d first arrived. It was a ten-minute walk that turned into an hour. He gave the man his coat and hat but stopped short of donating his gloves. After taking care of the man’s immediate medical needs and layering him with several blankets, he’d found in a wobbly, three-legged chest, he returned to the scene of the drop-off. Any signs another person witnessed their mischief needed to be erased. He brought several pieces of the man’s clothing and shredded it.
After catching a rabbit, he butchered it and drained the blood onto the man’s clothing. Cutting the animal into chunks and making a trail of the meat would attract a hungry wolf he’d spotted in the area. Russian wolves were known to be aggressive toward humans. If the soldiers came back, he hoped they might speculate the wild beasts enjoyed an easy meal.
“I’ve made you soup. Come. Sit up,” Darya encouraged his guest later that night. He’d blacked out the windows but decided building a fire would be too big of a gamble. Luckily, the cabin had one electrical outlet and a hotplate that served as the stove. After he cooked some food for them, Darya cleaned everything up, hoping the smell wouldn’t carry on the cold wind blowing across the lake and up to the ridge where they hunkered down.
“Who are you?” Darya inquired as he removed the tin cup he’d used for a bowl. “How does an American end up here?”
