Ionshaker (Part I) by Felix Timothy (best short novels txt) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
When a cutting edge nuclear software device called Ionshaker is stolen from a secret government facility by a dangerous terrorist group called Al Fakir and people with information on Ionshaker start dying, two men framed for the murders become fugitives but the president has no choice but to secretly send the two to trace, steal Ionshaker back and expose the culprits. Its urgent, its dangerous, its mission impossible.
"Ionshaker part I is only the first part of the book Ionshaker. The complete book is available on Amazon for only 0.99c."
"Ionshaker part I is only the first part of the book Ionshaker. The complete book is available on Amazon for only 0.99c."
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to the elevator without a word. But with a smile, Nicole asked, “Can I come…I know the way…” Then, she hunched her shoulders as she said, “It could save you hours trying to locate the place…”
Brett just stopped and sighed without turning to look at her. In other words or in the Brett-Nicole code language he was saying: “Hurry up then.” And just like that, the lead detective and his deputy were back on the road to take pictures.
No sooner had they parked their car, a man stepped out of the erect office and leaned on the railing to watch the two approaching detectives.
“Something is not right,” Nicole said with her eyes roving about.
“What are you talking about?” Brett asked turning to her. They were just about to take the staircase.
“See that guy gawking at us?” She asked gesturing with her head.
“Yeah – he’s not skinny, is he?” Brett asked taking his first step on the staircase.
“Welcome,” the burly man said with a smile.
“Thank you,” Brett replied.
“And how may I help you two. You need some towing assistance?”
“No, we’re FBI and my partner was here about an hour ago. Were you here?”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Do you work shifts during the day?”
“No.”
“I see,” Brett nodded before continuing with the question, “So where’s the person who was here?”
“No one was here...” The man replied with a light laugh.
“What do you mean no one was here?” Nicole cut him short and continuing, “A slim man was here.”
“Sorry ma’am, as I said, I wasn’t here, and I can’t account for the time that I wasn’t here.”
“You’re lying!” Nicole snapped.
“I’m lying?” He asked poking his chest with his index finger. He was offended.
“Yes,” Nicole stood her ground. The man sighed then asked, “What do you want me to do - guess names?”
“Starting with yours,” Brett joined in, taking out a small note book and a pen to jot down the names. The man sighed then said his name.
“John Crowley.”
“Any person, perhaps a friend, who could have been in your office when you were not around?”
Brett continued probing the caretaker.
“May be my buddy Ted, but I must emphasize, I’m speculating.”
“I’m intrigued – do you usually just leave this place open like that?” Brett asked with a mocking smile.
“We’re usually three, so somebody’s always here.”
“And where’re the other guys?”
“Sam called in sick today…”
“Sam who?”
“Sam Therizion.”
“And Ted is Ted who?”
“Goblet.”
“Go on.”
“Peter McGill is attending a court hearing.”
“You’ve not told us why you had to leave.”
“Coffee – you need the name of the diner too?”
“Coffee for one hour, huh?” Nicole chipped in with a smirk on her face as. The man remained reticent.
“Where’s the wreck?”
“Why don’t you ask your Miss Know-it-all here, she seems to know everything,” the caretaker retorted and began walking into the tiny office.
Nicole was the first to descend the steps.
The wreckage was still in the same spot Nicole had left it over an hour ago. As they approached it, Brett took out a digital camera and said, “Show me the conspiracy.”
“We start with the front left wheel. You’ll see it’s older than the other three. Got a flashlight or something we can use for lighting?”
“My phone will give us some light,” Brett said kneeling on the left side of the car.
“Some light now please,” Nicole said writhing on her back under the wreckage.
“Something’s not right. It was…”
“Are you sure the parts were old and rusty? I mean it could have been poor illumination…”
“No Brett – I’m sure,” she replied immediately and emphatically.
“What about the brakes, you said they’d been compromised.”
Nicole turned the light from the phone to the brake lines. None of the brake lines hung loose. She waggled from under the wreck.
“Check the safety belt,” she said after they both got on their feet. Brett leaned through the broken driver’s window and tried clipping the seat belt. To Nicole’s bewilderment it clipped and held properly. They were both nonplussed. What could they say – there was nothing to be photographed.
“Every trace of foul play has been wiped out,” Nicole said.
“Do you think Trey was telling the truth when he said someone wanted to kill Robin?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. But we can ask him right?”
“If we can be able to get him.”
With a frown on her face, Nicole turned to Brett to ask, “You released him?”
“You told me I had nothing on him, right?”
Nicole sighed loudly then remained quiet for a few seconds before asking, “So what do we do, now that the only person who could have shed some light on this mystery is no longer in our custody and getting him in time will be next to impossible.”
“So we go back to where it all started.”
“Brooke Woodley?”
“Yes, she’s the key.”
9
Seated in the back seat of Trey’s dark-green SUV looking at her, he told Audrey, “You were so fortunate to survive the accident unharmed.”
“It’s funny,” Audrey said then looked outside the window.
“What’s funny?” Trey asked curiously.
“Why I wasn’t hurt,” she turned to look at him.
“I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t wanna do it yesterday, but she made me and it saved my life.”
“And what is that?”
“I buckled up. I guess it made the difference.”
“What! Your mom didn’t strap up?” Trey asked, visibly startled. Robin was the most safety conscious driver he knew.
“She tried to, but her seat belt got stuck, so she...”
“Wait, her seat belt got stuck?” Surprised, Brett had to restrain himself from shouting.
“Strange right?”
Brett sighed and took his time before asking, “Was it the first time you ever saw it jam?”
“Yeah.”
“And where were you going?”
“I don’t know. She never told me. She picked me up from school, rushed me home and in no time we were on the road.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. She was so weird, you know. It was as if we were running.”
“Anything specific that makes you say that?”
“All she kept saying was ‘hurry up, pack up your things, we don’t have much time…’”
“Anything else, you know – things like your mom being overly worried, changing door locks, you get the idea, right?”
“I can’t really say that she’d been acting strange before yesterday.”
“I need you to be sure Audrey.”
“I don’t remember anything, really,” she emphasized just before remembering something, “Maybe...”
“Go on.”
“Once, about a week ago, when I returned from school and turned on the answering machine, there was this strange message from...”
“From who Audrey?”
“A man... kinda old.”
“What was the message, threats?”
“No. He was kinda warning my mom.”
“Do you remember what he said?”
“Not exactly. It was something like, “…they’re dangerous, be careful,” that’s all I can remember.”
“What about his name?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try Audrey, try,” he said softly but emphatically.
“I’m not sure; Gramps, Grands, Greg...I don’t know okay?” The frustration on Audrey’s face was evident.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’ve done great. Come here.”
Trey pulled her closer to him and hugged her as he told her, “We need to go somewhere so you can to freshen up and rest a little.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“It’ll just be for a short while I promise.”
“No Trey.”
“Yes. You know your mom would want you to rest. And plus we don’t want her to feel guilty when she wakes up and finds out you haven’t showered or slept because you were too worried.”
Angrily, Audrey turned away to look outside.
“Audrey?” Trey called her name gently.
Audrey nodded after a while.
“Good. Now just give me a moment to send an email.”
He grabbed his laptop and googled: exilio.com. A page immediately came up and he clicked on the Services. A services page came on, but he wasn’t interested in any. He scrolled down to the bottom of the page and clicked on a link titled Other. A blank page with a blinking cursor came and he typed UC- 2567340/2011 then hit Enter. Afterwards, he signed off and shut down the laptop.
Trey put on his seat belt and sunglasses and when he was just about to turn the ignition key, his cell phone rang.
“Yes Rendell,” it was his attorney calling at a bad time.
“Hey, I’m sorry about Brooke,” he said sympathetically.
“Me too... look Rendell, I have a lot on my mind right now…”
“Sure, I understand. I’m calling to talk about Brooke’s will. She…”
“I have a lot on my plate; I can’t talk about that now…” Trey hung up and drove off.
10
It was the third day after Brooke’s murder and still, Brett did not have even the slightest clue of the shooter. Instead of rounding up more suspects, he’d released his only suspect on the previous day.
And now, things had gotten a little more intricate. In his quest, he had unveiled a cover up which indicated that, whoever was behind the shooting had connections, resources and was adept at detective work.
Most likely, it wasn’t just one person, it had the feel of something larger, like a network.
Brett had to rethink his steps and go back to the drawing board, to the basics; go back to Brooke’s body and disrupt whatever whizzo plan was going on. Otherwise, they would continue being a step ahead.
But who were they? And why the cover ups? What were they hiding?
Since the day of the shooting, he had not had a chance to examine the body himself. It was time for him to take a scrupulous look at Brooke’s body. Not that he was second guessing the coroner’s findings, no, it was just a gut feeling that the body had more to offer in terms of leads.
The overly bearded, forty-something nerdy coroner was in scrubs busy dissecting a body on the bench. He did not hear Brett entering.
“Hi Rashid,” Brett’s voice interrupted the quietude of the laboratory.
Startled, he responded, “I warned you not to be sneaking up on me like that, I could cut myself,” then turning back to the body he was dissecting he arrogantly asked, “What d’you want?”
“Brooke Woodley.”
“Can’t help you with that,” he responded flatly as he went on cutting up the body.
“I’m here to look at the body, not for your help Rashid. Now where is it?” Brett stepped closer to Rashid.
“Farewell,” Rashid answered not bothering to look at Brett standing next to him.
“And what might that be Rashid?”
“A morgue – dummy,” Rashid stopped dissecting to look at Brett as he went on, “I thought detectives were supposed to be smarter than that.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What time?”
Rashid exhaled then answered, “As soon as I was done with it. Look, are you interrogating me now?”
Brett ignored the question and asked, “And why did you release the body without checking with me? You knew I was still investigating the case.”
“You want us to go down that road? Why didn’t you say something after reading the autopsy report on your desk yesterday morning? My guess is you were satisfied with it and so
Brett just stopped and sighed without turning to look at her. In other words or in the Brett-Nicole code language he was saying: “Hurry up then.” And just like that, the lead detective and his deputy were back on the road to take pictures.
No sooner had they parked their car, a man stepped out of the erect office and leaned on the railing to watch the two approaching detectives.
“Something is not right,” Nicole said with her eyes roving about.
“What are you talking about?” Brett asked turning to her. They were just about to take the staircase.
“See that guy gawking at us?” She asked gesturing with her head.
“Yeah – he’s not skinny, is he?” Brett asked taking his first step on the staircase.
“Welcome,” the burly man said with a smile.
“Thank you,” Brett replied.
“And how may I help you two. You need some towing assistance?”
“No, we’re FBI and my partner was here about an hour ago. Were you here?”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Do you work shifts during the day?”
“No.”
“I see,” Brett nodded before continuing with the question, “So where’s the person who was here?”
“No one was here...” The man replied with a light laugh.
“What do you mean no one was here?” Nicole cut him short and continuing, “A slim man was here.”
“Sorry ma’am, as I said, I wasn’t here, and I can’t account for the time that I wasn’t here.”
“You’re lying!” Nicole snapped.
“I’m lying?” He asked poking his chest with his index finger. He was offended.
“Yes,” Nicole stood her ground. The man sighed then asked, “What do you want me to do - guess names?”
“Starting with yours,” Brett joined in, taking out a small note book and a pen to jot down the names. The man sighed then said his name.
“John Crowley.”
“Any person, perhaps a friend, who could have been in your office when you were not around?”
Brett continued probing the caretaker.
“May be my buddy Ted, but I must emphasize, I’m speculating.”
“I’m intrigued – do you usually just leave this place open like that?” Brett asked with a mocking smile.
“We’re usually three, so somebody’s always here.”
“And where’re the other guys?”
“Sam called in sick today…”
“Sam who?”
“Sam Therizion.”
“And Ted is Ted who?”
“Goblet.”
“Go on.”
“Peter McGill is attending a court hearing.”
“You’ve not told us why you had to leave.”
“Coffee – you need the name of the diner too?”
“Coffee for one hour, huh?” Nicole chipped in with a smirk on her face as. The man remained reticent.
“Where’s the wreck?”
“Why don’t you ask your Miss Know-it-all here, she seems to know everything,” the caretaker retorted and began walking into the tiny office.
Nicole was the first to descend the steps.
The wreckage was still in the same spot Nicole had left it over an hour ago. As they approached it, Brett took out a digital camera and said, “Show me the conspiracy.”
“We start with the front left wheel. You’ll see it’s older than the other three. Got a flashlight or something we can use for lighting?”
“My phone will give us some light,” Brett said kneeling on the left side of the car.
“Some light now please,” Nicole said writhing on her back under the wreckage.
“Something’s not right. It was…”
“Are you sure the parts were old and rusty? I mean it could have been poor illumination…”
“No Brett – I’m sure,” she replied immediately and emphatically.
“What about the brakes, you said they’d been compromised.”
Nicole turned the light from the phone to the brake lines. None of the brake lines hung loose. She waggled from under the wreck.
“Check the safety belt,” she said after they both got on their feet. Brett leaned through the broken driver’s window and tried clipping the seat belt. To Nicole’s bewilderment it clipped and held properly. They were both nonplussed. What could they say – there was nothing to be photographed.
“Every trace of foul play has been wiped out,” Nicole said.
“Do you think Trey was telling the truth when he said someone wanted to kill Robin?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. But we can ask him right?”
“If we can be able to get him.”
With a frown on her face, Nicole turned to Brett to ask, “You released him?”
“You told me I had nothing on him, right?”
Nicole sighed loudly then remained quiet for a few seconds before asking, “So what do we do, now that the only person who could have shed some light on this mystery is no longer in our custody and getting him in time will be next to impossible.”
“So we go back to where it all started.”
“Brooke Woodley?”
“Yes, she’s the key.”
9
Seated in the back seat of Trey’s dark-green SUV looking at her, he told Audrey, “You were so fortunate to survive the accident unharmed.”
“It’s funny,” Audrey said then looked outside the window.
“What’s funny?” Trey asked curiously.
“Why I wasn’t hurt,” she turned to look at him.
“I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t wanna do it yesterday, but she made me and it saved my life.”
“And what is that?”
“I buckled up. I guess it made the difference.”
“What! Your mom didn’t strap up?” Trey asked, visibly startled. Robin was the most safety conscious driver he knew.
“She tried to, but her seat belt got stuck, so she...”
“Wait, her seat belt got stuck?” Surprised, Brett had to restrain himself from shouting.
“Strange right?”
Brett sighed and took his time before asking, “Was it the first time you ever saw it jam?”
“Yeah.”
“And where were you going?”
“I don’t know. She never told me. She picked me up from school, rushed me home and in no time we were on the road.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. She was so weird, you know. It was as if we were running.”
“Anything specific that makes you say that?”
“All she kept saying was ‘hurry up, pack up your things, we don’t have much time…’”
“Anything else, you know – things like your mom being overly worried, changing door locks, you get the idea, right?”
“I can’t really say that she’d been acting strange before yesterday.”
“I need you to be sure Audrey.”
“I don’t remember anything, really,” she emphasized just before remembering something, “Maybe...”
“Go on.”
“Once, about a week ago, when I returned from school and turned on the answering machine, there was this strange message from...”
“From who Audrey?”
“A man... kinda old.”
“What was the message, threats?”
“No. He was kinda warning my mom.”
“Do you remember what he said?”
“Not exactly. It was something like, “…they’re dangerous, be careful,” that’s all I can remember.”
“What about his name?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try Audrey, try,” he said softly but emphatically.
“I’m not sure; Gramps, Grands, Greg...I don’t know okay?” The frustration on Audrey’s face was evident.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’ve done great. Come here.”
Trey pulled her closer to him and hugged her as he told her, “We need to go somewhere so you can to freshen up and rest a little.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“It’ll just be for a short while I promise.”
“No Trey.”
“Yes. You know your mom would want you to rest. And plus we don’t want her to feel guilty when she wakes up and finds out you haven’t showered or slept because you were too worried.”
Angrily, Audrey turned away to look outside.
“Audrey?” Trey called her name gently.
Audrey nodded after a while.
“Good. Now just give me a moment to send an email.”
He grabbed his laptop and googled: exilio.com. A page immediately came up and he clicked on the Services. A services page came on, but he wasn’t interested in any. He scrolled down to the bottom of the page and clicked on a link titled Other. A blank page with a blinking cursor came and he typed UC- 2567340/2011 then hit Enter. Afterwards, he signed off and shut down the laptop.
Trey put on his seat belt and sunglasses and when he was just about to turn the ignition key, his cell phone rang.
“Yes Rendell,” it was his attorney calling at a bad time.
“Hey, I’m sorry about Brooke,” he said sympathetically.
“Me too... look Rendell, I have a lot on my mind right now…”
“Sure, I understand. I’m calling to talk about Brooke’s will. She…”
“I have a lot on my plate; I can’t talk about that now…” Trey hung up and drove off.
10
It was the third day after Brooke’s murder and still, Brett did not have even the slightest clue of the shooter. Instead of rounding up more suspects, he’d released his only suspect on the previous day.
And now, things had gotten a little more intricate. In his quest, he had unveiled a cover up which indicated that, whoever was behind the shooting had connections, resources and was adept at detective work.
Most likely, it wasn’t just one person, it had the feel of something larger, like a network.
Brett had to rethink his steps and go back to the drawing board, to the basics; go back to Brooke’s body and disrupt whatever whizzo plan was going on. Otherwise, they would continue being a step ahead.
But who were they? And why the cover ups? What were they hiding?
Since the day of the shooting, he had not had a chance to examine the body himself. It was time for him to take a scrupulous look at Brooke’s body. Not that he was second guessing the coroner’s findings, no, it was just a gut feeling that the body had more to offer in terms of leads.
The overly bearded, forty-something nerdy coroner was in scrubs busy dissecting a body on the bench. He did not hear Brett entering.
“Hi Rashid,” Brett’s voice interrupted the quietude of the laboratory.
Startled, he responded, “I warned you not to be sneaking up on me like that, I could cut myself,” then turning back to the body he was dissecting he arrogantly asked, “What d’you want?”
“Brooke Woodley.”
“Can’t help you with that,” he responded flatly as he went on cutting up the body.
“I’m here to look at the body, not for your help Rashid. Now where is it?” Brett stepped closer to Rashid.
“Farewell,” Rashid answered not bothering to look at Brett standing next to him.
“And what might that be Rashid?”
“A morgue – dummy,” Rashid stopped dissecting to look at Brett as he went on, “I thought detectives were supposed to be smarter than that.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What time?”
Rashid exhaled then answered, “As soon as I was done with it. Look, are you interrogating me now?”
Brett ignored the question and asked, “And why did you release the body without checking with me? You knew I was still investigating the case.”
“You want us to go down that road? Why didn’t you say something after reading the autopsy report on your desk yesterday morning? My guess is you were satisfied with it and so
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