Cold Malice by Toni Anderson

Author:Toni Anderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense
Publisher: Toni Anderson
Published: 2017-08-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Her burner phone dinged with an incoming message as she headed along Whitehaven Trail in Dumbarton Oaks Park. It was still dark. She hadn’t gotten much sleep lately and the strain of living a double life was beginning to tell.

She couldn’t wait for the subterfuge to be over, to deliver her final message and openly begin the fight. She couldn’t wait to reveal who she was and revel in her achievements with the thousands of people who thought the way she did. This was a call to action that her people would recognize. The federal government had stolen the republic from the people. The people were stealing it back.

She slowed to read the text message in case it was relevant to this morning’s mission.

A weblink appeared. An image slowly downloaded. She stumbled to a halt, panting in the cold air as a photograph of a burned-out farmhouse revealed itself. Her heartbeat reverberated in her ears like an echo chamber. Nothing remained of the building except two unstable-looking chimney stacks, the embers still smoking under bright klieg lights. The snow was blackened with soot and torn up dirt.

But she recognized it.

She quickly read the article. “One man, Henry Jessop, believed dead. Arson suspected. Feds investigating.”

She squatted, resting one hand on the ground. No! He couldn’t be dead.

She covered her mouth with her hand. Why was his death being investigated by the Feds? Had they connected him to the DC killings? Had they connected him to her? She stared around, looking for signs that this was a setup and that agents were hidden in the bushes ready to pounce. But it was too dark to make out much.

Rage filled her.

She needed to destroy the phone and figure out what the Feds might have found out. The old man wouldn’t have given them away. That’s no doubt why he was dead and the house destroyed. He’d sacrificed himself rather than give away the cause. He was a martyr. Another hero who’d dedicated his life to the revolution. She wouldn’t let him down.

The faint sound of footsteps approached from around a bend in the path, masked by the noise of the nearby creek rushing toward downtown at full spate. She was in a secluded section of the trail, along a narrow gorge, hidden from the road by the heavy shadows and a thick stand of trees. Even though the branches were bare of leaves she couldn’t see anybody hiding. If Feds were there she wouldn’t go down without taking a few of them with her. She pulled her ball cap lower, then reached up to grip the weapon that nestled in a holster in the small of her back. She didn’t have a suppressor this time. It wouldn’t fit.

She started jogging, slowly, as if she was in this for the long haul—which she was.

Congressman Adam Trettorri came into view in keeping with his winter pre-dawn routine. He was one of the youngest politicians in DC. Handsome. An Army vet. Openly gay.

He was an abomination.

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