2 Novellas from the Taylor Jackson Series by J.T. Ellison

Author:J.T. Ellison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Two Tales Press

14

0630 Hours

Taylor’s theory about Florian being the shooter changed when she saw the blood by the window.

“Cherry, over here.”

“Oh, no. This goes from bad to worse.”

“It does, but don’t lose hope just yet. There’s not enough blood to assume the worst, not by a long shot. This is just a thimbleful, really.” Taylor stared at the blood drops. They were drying around the edges, though the centers were still wet. Not fresh, but not old, either.

“The storm kicked into high gear at midnight. A time of death on Mr. Stamper would go a long way toward telling us whether Florian is still on site or was taken from the hotel.”

Cherry shook her head. “You’re not making me feel better. I have one man down, and one missing. Where the hell could he be?”

Taylor tucked her weapon back into its holster.

“I don’t know. Anywhere—this campus is huge. But if he’s still here, you’re missing the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture?”

“It’s entirely possible we’re locked in this hotel with a cold-blooded murderer.”

Cherry sat down hard on Florian’s bed. “Oh, Lieutenant, trust me, I am well aware of this.”

There was something in her tone, in the self-defeated flop on the bed.

Taylor squatted on the floor in front of the woman. “You sound like a woman who needs to get a load off her chest.”

“I’ve screwed up. I didn’t protect him. It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean, you’ve screwed up? Cherry, talk to me. What’s really going on here?”

“You know who Thierry Florian is, I suspect?”

“He’s worked with my fiancé, but I don’t know him. I just met him tonight. He told me he’s the head of the Macallan Group, and former clandestine services. The French, right, DGSE?”

“Always shy with his accomplishments, Thierry. That’s what makes him such an excellent spy. His father was a leader in the French Résistance during World War II. When the French needed information about the Germans, François Florian would put himself in the worst possible situations, get arrested, then find ways to keep himself alive while he gathered information. When he had what he needed, he would escape and bring the information back to the resistance.”

“An impressive man.”

“Yes. Thierry was his youngest child, born well after the end of the war, but the tales his family told were intoxicating. While the rest of his siblings went into safe positions as doctors and lawyers, Thierry followed in his father’s footsteps and joined what was then known as the DGSE—the Directorate-General for External Security.”

“The French version of our CIA.”

“Correct. He had an illustrious career. When he retired, he was the equivalent of our Director of Counterintelligence. But it was an especially covert side job that put him on his current path. Before he left he worked with the Alliance Base—do you know what that is?”

“An international cooperative of intelligence agencies, right? Working against Al Qaeda and other terrorist organizations?”

“Yes.” She smiled, a little sadly. “Thierry has always ruffled feathers in the intelligence community with his theories. He feels cooperative intelligence is vital to deter more terrorist attacks on the Western world.

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