Croft Ravens Nest Convergence

1. Auflage 2017
ISBN: 978-1-5439-1889-2
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, Band 1, 352 Seiten

Reihe: Ravens Nest Convergence

Deputy Sheriff Lisa Montgomery is grappling to maintain law and order after an attempt on Abby Willis's life, Vice President of Willis & Atkins Construction and daughter of the sitting governor whose family visits town to attend the wedding of Dr. Jessica Atkins and Martin Orion. The chaos escalates when a shooter murders the hired assassin and an interagency investigator starts snooping around. Special Agent Caleb Parker of the ATF arrives in Ravens Nest, tasked with investigating the recent officer-involved shootings that left more than a dozen mercenaries dead. Strongly suspicious of possible corruption in the sheriff's department, he is further alarmed when shot at the very night he arrives into town. Hell-bent on breaking Deputy Sheriff Lisa Montgomery to uncover the truth, he soon faces the wrath of a woman disrespected and pushed to the limits. Their uneasy alliance and investigation lead them to believe that more members of the criminal organization implicated in the recently uncovered government data breaches are involved-and that the conspiracy is deeper entrenched than it first appeared. The hidden connection to Sheriff Mel Goodwin, Abby Willis and Lisa Montgomery's past becomes clear as a criminal mastermind converges on Ravens Nest seeking to exact revenge, up close and very personal. This third book, set in the once quiet coastal town of Ravens Nest, brings new perils that disrupt the peace and endanger the lives of the local residents.

Alex Croft has lived and worked as a healthcare professional in four countries, whilst traveling to many more. Drawing on life experience and exposure to different cultures, the author weaves aspects of medical treatment modalities, humanity, the power of conviction and intrigue into the story lines. Raven Nest Convergence is the third book in a series set in the idyllic and fictitious town of Ravens Nest. A fan of different genres of fiction, the author incorporates elements of suspense, humor, romance and fantasy into contemporary writing to enhance the reading experience.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Croft, Alex

Leseproben

Prologue

Nine months ago: London, United Kingdom, December 7th.

Abby Willis, vice president of the international arm of Willis & Atkins Construction, felt the freezing concrete seep into her bones as she lay flat on her stomach, watching through the scope of her high-powered rifle. She was thirty stories up on a cold, rainy winter’s day as she briefly looked behind her to the empty, expansive floor of the construction site. The workers had left for home an hour ago. There was not much cover up here, except for the multiple bare structural pillars, scattered strategically all around. The windows and walls were nowhere near finished, but safety scaffolding emblazoned with the company logo and WAC surrounded the building and protected her from prying eyes. She wriggled her hips and knees into a more comfortable position as she stretched out on a gray tarpaulin next to her tactically chosen pillar, and reached for the edges of the sheet to shield herself against the howling wind.

She tucked her long strawberry blonde hair behind her right ear. This was a far cry from the comfort of her climate-controlled offices or her boardroom where she had held meetings just hours ago. She could taste the concrete dust in her mouth and regretted taking this assignment. Duty calls.

Then again, this was exactly what happened when you essentially had two jobs. Or more precisely; a highly visible senior executive position in the family construction business and a secondary clandestine side-profession of gathering intelligence on key industry players as part of a specialized interagency unit combatting classified threats. She sometimes got the impression that the term classified was used quite liberally in place of providing agents with concrete answers or verified information, because no one actually knew what the hell was going on. An easy and foolproof cop-out.

Shared intelligence had been helpful in tracking down funding avenues for terror groups, so Abby could see tangible results from her efforts. But it felt like a never-ending game of whack-a-mole. Her role related more specifically to gaining access to hard-to-reach individuals or targets and investigating money laundering involving the construction industry, the use of construction sites for covert arms deals, and as meeting places for planning even more nefarious schemes. This was, surprisingly, a frequent occurrence.

Good thing The Agency had left the necessary equipment up here, as she could not be seen carrying around a high-powered rifle to an unscheduled construction site visit. Especially with her acting managing director in the United Kingdom, Evan Parsons, insisting on accompanying her to this site visit. As usual, her team had perfect timing with calling Parsons away for an urgent fabricated meeting when they arrived on-site. Abby insisted on completing the site visit on her own and put her invisible nano communications earpiece in as soon as Evan left. She then checked in with her two-man team, Riley and Joseph, on the ground below. She rushed through her site checklist and made a note to schedule a more formal inspection in the weeks to come.

Which brought her to where she was freezing right this minute. For this job, she needed thermal underwear. Abby cringed; no one had ever attempted making those sexy. Mission impossible.

Abby licked concrete dust from her lips and frowned; “Remind me again why I am the one lying up here in my pencil skirt being turned into an icicle, while you guys are sipping on cappuccinos in your overalls? You two had to carry the equipment up here anyway.”

“You’re the best.” The duo sang out.

Abby heard laughter ringing in her ears. She swore under her breath; they were razzing her.

“You guys are full of shit,” she grumbled.

“You also get to attend all the high-life socialite cocktail parties and exclusive executive dinners, wining and dining in style and having your photo taken with the most influential globetrotters,” Jo said. “Riley and I are always here in this van, sipping on government-issued cappuccinos, if you could call them that. They won’t even fund us going on a barista course. And it is not as if you’d ever dare drink this sludge.”

“Duchess here, also complains about patronizing those dreadful fundraising, fancy-dress evenings and gourmet meals, Jo.”

The chuckle in her ears was their usual to and fro banter routine. They were regular comedians. They were funnier on some days than on others.

“If you are worried about your clothes, I’m sure you can afford having them dry-cleaned and even report that expense as tax-deductible,” Jo added.

“I think she only wears things once and then donates them to charity.”

It wasn’t exactly true. But close.

Abby blew out a frustrated breath; “Enough guys, I want to see you two cope with overly handsy and touchy-feely, drunk, entitled oligarchs and their pampered progeny who cling like leeches.”

“You really have it rough,” Riley replied drily.

Abby adjusted her grip and focused the scope. It was almost time.

“Seriously, your rifle skills score the highest, and you have the best reason to inspect this construction site. This is a simple observe and report mission. It is not like you have to sneak around and plant surveillance equipment or clone smartphones tonight... or deal with unwanted attention from world-renowned creeps with cheesy pickup lines. It’s all clear on our end with your WAC security stationed at the gate. No one has entered the site since Parsons left... are you two a thing now?”

Abby rolled her eyes. Not this again. And they wonder why she does not wear her comms earpiece more often. No conversation was private, while too much was easily misconstrued.

“He works for me, he is married, and his wife is pregnant,” Abby scoffed with indignation.

“I did not hear a ‘no’ in there. Is that a ‘no’? So then, go out with me.”

“In your dreams, Joseph. She only dates ridiculously handsome billionaires,” Riley interjected.

Abby took a deep breath and ignored the quarrel in the background. She focused on the feel of the metal against her skin. It had been a while since she held such a magnificent weapon. She adjusted it for wind speed and distance. Thus far, all her missions over the last three years circumvented using violence or the need for weapons of any kind, except for her wit. And perhaps spraining a few wandering fingers or strategically stepping on deserving toes with six-inched reinforced heels.

It was a bit peculiar that she was cradling such a powerful weapon fitted with a silencer and fully loaded. Perhaps the intelligence on this operation was being fragmented and selectively shared. And she was deemed as not needing to know. She ignored the irrational and uncomfortable apprehension in her gut; this was simply a reconnaissance mission... far away from any danger. As if The Agency never got things wrong.

Focus. She carefully moved cold fingers and adjusted her view through the scope; “I can see the meet starting up. Blackbeard is in play.”

Abby was looking into an apartment building five hundred yards away. An Interpol agent, code name Blackbeard, had posed as a buyer and arranged for an arms inspection with a prominent black market dealer. Today was the culmination of years of undercover work. Their assignment was to observe and provide support from a distance. One of her construction sites was the only building offering a possible view of the venue, and she had legitimate reason to be on-site in the required timeframe for a spot inspection. Her team already had valid access cards from her company, with their cover being on-site as authorized electrical contractors attending to an after hours emergency. Her riflescope view was wirelessly linked to their surveillance van and providing Riley and Joseph with a live feed.

“Do you have a clear picture of what I am seeing?” Abby asked.

“Sure do. We are uploading the ugly mugs of those evildoer bad guys onto the system as we speak... there. Make sure you don’t break a heel up there. Jo and I can’t bear you complaining about that for hours on end again.”

Abby glanced at her spectacular black three-inched Prada shoes, or the girls, as she affectionately referred to them, waiting patiently beside her.

“The girls are safe... you know I have to wear personal protective equipment—PPE—up here: those glamorous steel-capped construction boots, my haute couture high-visibility vest, and a ready-for-the-races hard hat.”

Wearing PPE was mandatory at building sites. Her team was ribbing her again and sent through the latest wind speed estimates. They liked texting her surveillance photos of herself...