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

a few hours earlier. It was parked in the dark next to an empty soccer field.

Getting inside, he turned on the engine and headed north through the upscale neighborhood then onto Main Street. Stopping at the first red light, he thought about the coming days. With so much of his energy and time devoted to working his way up the food chain in this region, he felt a sense of relief that his mission here was nearly over.

He felt an odd sense of irony that he was undertaking lethal action on his own turf, in areas that he had formerly only viewed as detached from the world of violence he employed across the globe. Now he was just like the assassins he hunted down and eliminated in other countries.

But even they have a network of other insurgents and friends to help them.

The realization that he was all alone struck him again as it had after fleeing from his house.

Cal kneaded his temples with his fingers. He was exhausted on a cellular level, and he knew that even after he killed Roth and the others it would only be the beginning of a new phase in his evasion efforts as he tried to flee the country.

His mind shot back to the present, the rage in him still brewing. Stay focused and finish the job.

Roth, Hunley and Montoya were now the main objectives, but traversing several thousand miles of open road to reach Texas when his face was plastered all over the nation was going to be even riskier than what he’d just done.

Cal removed his burner phone, dialing up an encrypted number. A second later, he heard Patterson’s familiar voice.

“Sir, are you alone?”

“Cal…you’re alive, thank God. I figured as much. Yes, I’m clear to talk.”

“Rourke was the mole inside the intelligence agencies. He was tied up with Vincent Roth, the oil tycoon, and another guy, Adam Hunley. They’re staging a coup in Venezuela, trying to install a guy named Ernesto Rimaldi. That’s what the hell this has been about—everyone died because of what Burke discovered about their attempts to circumvent the election down there.”

“Jesus. Incredible. Rourke would have had access to the satellite imagery and been able to hide his activities. And Hunley…I remember him. He was the former ambassador to Colombia. That would explain all the dead cartel guys around the city here…whom I’m assuming didn’t die as a result of a turf war like the media’s making it out to be.”

Cal didn’t respond. “There’s one more thing. The woman who leaked my identity—her name is Michele Henderson. She’s a freelancer on the dark web who works for Hunley.”

“I’ll get on that. She won’t get far, I promise.”

There was a long silence between them. “Sir, whatever happens next, I just want you to know that it was an honor serving under you. You were like a father to me, and I’ll never forget everything you’ve taught me, both in and outside of the agency.”

He heard a sigh on the other end, and he knew that there was nothing more to be said. It was unlikely that Patterson would be able to clear his name regardless of how Cal had tried to make the recent spate of murders look like a turf war between the Colombians, and with the violence he planned to unleash in Texas, his fate as a fugitive would be sealed.

“Cal…you watch your topknot and take care of yourself.”

“Copy that, sir.” He clicked off the phone, flinging it out the window as he passed over a bridge.

Cal took a deep breath, fixing his gaze on the road, feeling like he was an explorer entering a foreign land.

He thought back to the cryptic text he had received before the Feds burst into his home. Just one more thing to take care of before I go.

As he continued north, getting onto the interstate and proceeding towards Arlington, he dreaded the thought of where he had to go next.

41

Virginia

Sixty minutes after leaving the sprawl of suburbs and strip malls behind, Cal turned onto the winding road through the countryside outside of Delaplane. The canopy of maple and beech tree limbs that hung over the two-lane road made it seem like he had entered an arboreal tunnel that shut off the outside world.

His attention on the road wavered with each mile as he thought of the burned-out shell at the end of this trip. The last time he had driven this stretch of road had been filled with such joy at seeing Cassie and his friends from the Perseus project.

He turned onto the narrow blacktop that led up to the main entrance gate, a growing pit pulsating in his core as he rounded the last turn and stopped before the orange barricades and police tape spanning the opening.

In the moonlight, he could make out the shattered hull of the estate on the hill, the sight seeming more fitting to the cover of a horror novel than the once opulent mansion of Stephen Burke.

He parked the truck then stepped out, walking under the police tape and up the driveway. Cal removed the high-beam flashlight he’d obtained from one of the thugs at Landis’ house then veered to the right, moving across the unkempt lawn.

Even this far out from the house, his boots still crunched down on glass shards and wood splinters. He paused, staring at the rubble where the second-story veranda had stood. For a moment, he saw Cassie waving, her golden hair alit in the evening sun, her smile slipping inside his soul as it always did. Then a whiff of charred wood from the breeze snapped him back to his bleak surroundings.

Cal pried his eyes from the remains of the mansion, forcing his legs towards the edge of the property. He stepped onto a gravel trail that led through a grove of young sycamore trees then continued down the path to a small clearing. There, beside a small stream, was a rustic structure no more than the size of a