Search and Destroy by JT Sawyer (top non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗

thick foliage beyond the swimming pool. “Protection is more like it. Especially since the security system was fucked and the camera footage is missing. I mean, the guy had a pricey saferoom in his back closet and doesn’t use it. That tells me whoever did this hit was in and out fast and knew the place—designated hitter from a rival drug dealer that Landis owed. Either that or he pissed off somebody in his line of work. He was knee-deep in the oil industry.”

“You think this is connected with the slayings of those scumbags at the dope house that was blown to shit up in Elkton? Those were Colombians too.”

“Really?” He frowned at his partner. “You know, you’re a lot smarter than anyone gives you credit for.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what your wife said as I drove off this morning.”

“Asshole.” Jackson pulled out his iPhone. “I’m going to send this up the line to the Feds, since they’re the ones working that crime scene at the dope house, but they’ll probably say this was just another turf war by the looks of it.”

39

After several unsuccessful attempts at locating the object of his quest, Cal finally came across a cluster of the innocuous-looking foxglove plants on a partially wooded slope across from a new housing development on the west side of Bethesda.

He gathered up a handful of the bell-shaped purple flowers, tucking them into his pocket then rinsing off his hands in the muddy waters of the creek below. By themselves, the flowers weren’t a topical danger. He needed to distill them into a liquid compound that would be used as the conduit to transport deadly levels of digitalis, which would create the desired effect on his victim’s heart.

He and the rest of the SD unit members had undergone an exhaustive course in natural, synthetic and improvised poisons taught by a biochemist whom Foley had subcontracted out specifically for her unique expertise. Her background amongst herbalists in the Deep South, where plant knowledge was still intact, gave her training an added edge, and Shepard was surprised to learn that so many of the toxic plants found in North America were also located throughout the Middle East and Africa.

When formulated properly and in high enough doses, foxglove released cardiac glycosides, causing fatal heart damage.

With a sufficient amount of the flowers, he made his way along the creek then came up on the other side of the woods, taking a circuitous route apart from the one he had originally taken to the area.

He stopped at a big-box pet store, locating a bottle of DMSO. The clear, odorless liquid was used as a conduit for transporting analgesic medicine onto the swollen extremities of racehorses, dogs and small animals for arthritis relief. When combined with the foxglove flowers, it would produce an invisible but deadly elixir.

He paid for the liquid solution then exited the store, heading towards the hostel as he palmed the bottle, thinking of the next leg of his operation.

I’d prefer a bullet, but this method will provide me with a little more time for the rest of what still needs to be done.

40

As he pulled into his driveway, Tim Rourke felt like his head was the size of a bowling ball from the throbbing headache that had plagued him all day since learning about the fate of Landis and the Colombians behind the bombing.

No way in hell I’m going down like Landis. I need to get the fuck out of this country and disappear.

His wife was on a three-day vacation in Atlantic City with her girlfriends, which was just enough time to get his belongings in order and tie up any loose ends at the NSA. With his skills in counterintelligence, he had the necessary fabricated passports, credit cards and IDs needed to start over in Switzerland. He had decided against trying to bring his wife, knowing that her idea of op-sec would consist of only posting on Facebook once a week instead of hourly.

She’ll bounce back in a few weeks, and I’ve left her with enough funds to stay afloat for a while. Besides, it’s not like she’ll even notice I’m gone.

He walked up the steps, and the automated lights on the porch flickered on. He inserted the key, turning the handle on the deadbolt then opening the door, quickly typing the deactivation code on the security keypad beside the light switch.

Rourke plunked his black briefcase on the floor then headed to the kitchen, turning on the lights and removing a tumbler of brandy from the counter. He pulled a handful of ice cubes from the freezer tray, placing them in the glass then clumsily splashing the whiskey inside. He rubbed his right hand against his pants then took a swig of the cool liquid, heading towards the living room.

God, I just have to get off my feet for an hour.

He sat in the recliner and was searching for the remote when the large plasma TV on the wall flicked on, the silent images of the old Western The Searchers playing.

“What the hell?” he said, leaning forward, then dropped his glass as Cal Shepard appeared from the dining room to the right. The man was pointing a suppressed pistol at him. Bile rushed up into Rourke’s throat, and he felt like vomiting as his heart began to race.

“Never thought a career guy like you would just throw it all away, working with the likes of Roth and Hunley, but I guess their 401K plan was a little better than the NSA’s.”

Shepard moved to the couch, sitting across from him. He lowered a small duffle bag onto the floor. He looked relaxed, almost at ease, which made Rourke even more petrified.

What is he after? He could have shot me after I stepped inside the house.

“Tell me about Caracas. How did you know that Burke had stumbled upon something—something worth killing all of those people for?” He leaned forward, aiming the gun at Rourke’s head. “Killing my wife for.”

Rourke waved his flushed hands.