Read Online Rock Killer by S. Evan Townsend - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: S. Evan Townsend
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familiar?”
Charlie pointed. “That’s the fat bitch.”
“Cole,” Mitchel noted. “I’ve got the San Francisco office looking into her background.”
Charlie nodded and looked at the face on the wall. She wondered what motivated a person like that.
“Would you like to help nail them?” Mitchel asked, interrupting her reflections.
Charlie didn’t hesitate. “How?”
“The Gaia Alliance is based in the U.S. Since they’ve committed no crimes there, the U.S. won’t do anything; at least in this case. But since the attack took place at the Nippon/European Space Agency Facility, both the EU and the Japanese governments say they will prosecute. But the U.S. won’t extradite without evidence.”
“Okay, how do I get it?” Charlie asked.
Mitchel smiled. “Computer, display ‘Freeman picture.’“ A handsome black man’s face appeared in place of the passport photos. “That’s my friend, Special Agent Gordon Freeman of the FBI. He wants someone.”
“Who?”
“Congresswoman Linda Trent of California’s forty-sixth district–Marin County, wouldn’t ya know? She’s a Green but also in the GA. We think she got the Syrians to smuggle the weapons used in the attack to the Moon. Freeman needs someone to infiltrate the GA organization. I think you’re perfect.”
“Why me? I’m Extraterrestrial Security, not Intelligence Gathering.”
“I know, but you’re unknown. All our people, or the FBI’s, risk exposure. Trent can look into any FBI file she wishes, including the ones on our people in the States.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Charlie asked.
“That and a million other things governments do. So we have to be careful. You’re literally from out of the blue. You make friends with Trent, get into the organization, and get the evidence we need.”
“Like what?”
“First, anything linking Trent to the Syrians; but that’s not enough. Then, if you get into the organization, anything linking it to the attack. Computer, show ‘L.A. Times archive photo.’“ The picture on the screen was replaced by a group of angry people protesting something. “This is a few years ago at the San Joaquin Fusion site. Computer, GA-overlay.” Three heads were circled. “This is the GA leadership as far as we know. Computer, print that.” A paper slid out of a slot on Mitchel’s desk. He handed it to Charlie. “The man on the left is Harris Beatty. He has a few convictions for violent crimes. We think he’s the leader of the GA’s underground activities.”
Charlie looked at the paper. Beatty looked like a blue eyed, blond denizen of a California muscle beach. “Doesn’t look like an environmental terrorist,” she commented.
“Beatty’s more of a mercenary,” Mitchel said. “Doesn’t care what the cause is as long as it’s violent.
“The other man is Alan Griffin. He seems to be some kind of sub-leader in the GA. The FBI thinks he’s responsible for the bombing of the Mojave antenna field. The woman is Trent. She was arrested in the Mojave bombing, but some crucial evidence was thrown out by a judge.”
“Why?” Charlie asked.
“Who knows? Maybe the arresting officer looked at her cross-eyed.”
Charlie looked at the three. Beatty was a big man, Griffin smaller and rather hirsute. Trent was a generally unattractive woman.
Charlie shook her head. “Okay, what do I look for?”
“The suits on the two dead terrorists,” Mitchel continued, “were Russian made, sold on the open market. According to the serial numbers, they were sold to Yemen. They could have sold them to the Syrians or directly to the GA. I have someone looking into that end of the deal. The bullets taken out of—uhm—the wall—”
“And Frank’s body.”
“Yes, the bullets were nine millimeter caseless. Computer, display ‘Lunar Facility surveillance still.’ This was taken by the computer on the Moon before the terrorist burned it with thermite. The only reason it survived is somebody downloaded it to a
Charlie pointed. “That’s the fat bitch.”
“Cole,” Mitchel noted. “I’ve got the San Francisco office looking into her background.”
Charlie nodded and looked at the face on the wall. She wondered what motivated a person like that.
“Would you like to help nail them?” Mitchel asked, interrupting her reflections.
Charlie didn’t hesitate. “How?”
“The Gaia Alliance is based in the U.S. Since they’ve committed no crimes there, the U.S. won’t do anything; at least in this case. But since the attack took place at the Nippon/European Space Agency Facility, both the EU and the Japanese governments say they will prosecute. But the U.S. won’t extradite without evidence.”
“Okay, how do I get it?” Charlie asked.
Mitchel smiled. “Computer, display ‘Freeman picture.’“ A handsome black man’s face appeared in place of the passport photos. “That’s my friend, Special Agent Gordon Freeman of the FBI. He wants someone.”
“Who?”
“Congresswoman Linda Trent of California’s forty-sixth district–Marin County, wouldn’t ya know? She’s a Green but also in the GA. We think she got the Syrians to smuggle the weapons used in the attack to the Moon. Freeman needs someone to infiltrate the GA organization. I think you’re perfect.”
“Why me? I’m Extraterrestrial Security, not Intelligence Gathering.”
“I know, but you’re unknown. All our people, or the FBI’s, risk exposure. Trent can look into any FBI file she wishes, including the ones on our people in the States.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Charlie asked.
“That and a million other things governments do. So we have to be careful. You’re literally from out of the blue. You make friends with Trent, get into the organization, and get the evidence we need.”
“Like what?”
“First, anything linking Trent to the Syrians; but that’s not enough. Then, if you get into the organization, anything linking it to the attack. Computer, show ‘L.A. Times archive photo.’“ The picture on the screen was replaced by a group of angry people protesting something. “This is a few years ago at the San Joaquin Fusion site. Computer, GA-overlay.” Three heads were circled. “This is the GA leadership as far as we know. Computer, print that.” A paper slid out of a slot on Mitchel’s desk. He handed it to Charlie. “The man on the left is Harris Beatty. He has a few convictions for violent crimes. We think he’s the leader of the GA’s underground activities.”
Charlie looked at the paper. Beatty looked like a blue eyed, blond denizen of a California muscle beach. “Doesn’t look like an environmental terrorist,” she commented.
“Beatty’s more of a mercenary,” Mitchel said. “Doesn’t care what the cause is as long as it’s violent.
“The other man is Alan Griffin. He seems to be some kind of sub-leader in the GA. The FBI thinks he’s responsible for the bombing of the Mojave antenna field. The woman is Trent. She was arrested in the Mojave bombing, but some crucial evidence was thrown out by a judge.”
“Why?” Charlie asked.
“Who knows? Maybe the arresting officer looked at her cross-eyed.”
Charlie looked at the three. Beatty was a big man, Griffin smaller and rather hirsute. Trent was a generally unattractive woman.
Charlie shook her head. “Okay, what do I look for?”
“The suits on the two dead terrorists,” Mitchel continued, “were Russian made, sold on the open market. According to the serial numbers, they were sold to Yemen. They could have sold them to the Syrians or directly to the GA. I have someone looking into that end of the deal. The bullets taken out of—uhm—the wall—”
“And Frank’s body.”
“Yes, the bullets were nine millimeter caseless. Computer, display ‘Lunar Facility surveillance still.’ This was taken by the computer on the Moon before the terrorist burned it with thermite. The only reason it survived is somebody downloaded it to a
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