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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781491842409 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 01/17/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 288 |
| File size: | 237 KB |
Read an Excerpt
The Lenora Assignment
By Grey Stone
AuthorHouse LLC
Copyright © 2014 Grey StoneAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4918-4241-6
CHAPTER 1
May 23, 2004—1600 hrs.
The container ship, 'Los Viento Buenos' left the port of Buenaventure, Colombia sailing for Los Angeles, California. She was fully loaded with various commodities, coffee beans, bananas, cut flowers, cocaine, and nine beautiful Colombian female children, ranging from eleven to sixteen years of age. The children were now in human bondage and were to become a part of a prostitution ring in Los Angeles, California.
Captain Juan Aleno had again worked his slimy deal with the Corzion family drug cartel in Buenaventure, Colombia. The deal provided good money, while allowing him and his four crew members thirteen days at sea to molest the children!
It was not a new adventure for Juan Aleno, as a matter of fact this was his eleventh sailing trip out of the Buenaventure port to Los Angeles. His manifest always included delivery of children to Los Angeles, after which he would pick up children in Los Angeles for delivery to Seattle, Washington. A large number of the children would then be shipped via truck to Chicago, Illinois, or to New York City. Over the years his competition had been nil because he was a distant relative of Juan Corzion.
June 6, 2004—2200 hrs.
The 'Los Viento Buenos' entered the Los Angeles Harbor and was now docked at Pier #22. Captain Aleno had retired to his captain's quarters and the ships' First-mate was standing guard duty on deck. The guard watched the white passenger van pull along side the ship's mooring. The van carried the official decal markings for the City of Los Angeles, while underneath the decal the words, 'Harbor Inspection Division' appeared.
At this point the guard felt no need to notify Captain Aleno, since it appeared to be a routine port inquiry. A white male slowly opened the van door; he dropped a silver 'wolf signet', and headed for the gang-plank to board ship. The guard noticed the man wore a badge displayed on his coat lapel and he carried a small black bag over his left shoulder. Still the guard showed no cause for alarm as he extended his right hand, "Welcome aboard Senor!"
Suddenly, Abbott plunged an eight-inch knife blade into the guards' chest. The guard gasp for air and tried to scream-out but Abbott placed his left hand over the guards' mouth and lowered him to the deck.
He felt it was essential to direct his attack along the port side of the ship in order to eliminate the Captain and his crew members.
Abbott quickly moved to the hatchway leading to the Captain's quarters at midship. He planted a C-4 explosive package on the hatch-way and set the timer for ten minutes. Immediately he entered the interior of the ship and planted another C-4 package below waterline. As he moved toward the bow of the ship port side, he heard a girl scream in cargo hole # 3. When he entered the area he spotted a crew member attempting to rape what appeared to be the oldest girl. Abbott did not hesitate, he pulled his 9mm Glock from his shoulder holster and set the Laser-red beam just above the rapist right ear and fired two rounds. The shots were so accurate they literally knocked the rapist off the top of his intended victim.
Now time was of the essence, looking at his watch he had four minutes to lead the girls to safety. In just a few minutes the ship would be a burning inferno and would eventually sink in fifty-eight feet of water. As they reached the top deck two crew members opened fire with a AK 47's. Abbott and the girls didn't have time for a long drawn out fire-fight. He reached into the black bag and pulled out two concussion grenades and threw them directly in front of the two crew members. The fire-fight was over as quickly as it had started; after two large explosions the pathway to the van was cleared. As the group reached the van, the 'Los Viento Buenos' exploded and begin to sink. Within thirty minutes the nine girls were delivered to the Los Angeles General Hospital for examination and delivery to local authorities for foster care placement.
Abbott had one last thought about the Captain. Adios, Captain Juan Aleno, may your soul burn in Hell!
CHAPTER 2Six months later ... Chicago, IL.
The misty rain had stopped as Abbott entered the alley-way off North Lexington street. He was already ten minutes late for his appointment with Helen Schroeder, his good looking informant. Not only was she a smart 'cookie' but she was helpful in so many ways.... enough of that he thought. For now he had to keep his mind on the business at hand. That's when it happened!
He first saw the beam of the Laser red-light hit his jacket heart high ; then he heard the rifle bolt slam shut. Momentarily he froze against a gutter spout, he knew he was in deep trouble. The sniper's slug ripped through his body just below the right clavicle above the scapula causing severe pain through his shoulder. For a moment it felt like someone had stuck him with a hot poker and his right arm had been torn off. Spinning, he fell against the alley's north brick wall as his 9mm Glock landed in the middle of the alley. He would have been better off if the sniper's first round had knocked him down. Now he was a stationary target. Again he heard the sniper's rifle bolt slide another round into the chamber, somebody knew how to shoot. No time to recover the 9mm Glock since he was losing a lot of blood. Someway he had to get out of the alley, suddenly his vision became blurry and then everything turned white.
As he opened his eyes the bright lights were blinding. When he glanced to his right he saw two angels robed in white. They were really not angels, the two were RN's assigned to the Emergency Ward, Cook Hospital, Chicago. They were angels as far as he was concerned. That's when Dr. Richard Ellsworth introduced himself.
"Big fella, I'm Dr. Ellsworth and you're going to be okay. We have you stabilized now and we're going to do surgery. You have a bullet wound that needs our attention. You'll do fine."
The doctor's words were somewhat a comfort to Abbott. On numerous other occasions, he had heard those re-assuring words. He remembered hearing the words on the battlefield in 'Nam, also near that shack outside Baghdad. He felt the same now. He knew it was up to God if it be His will! That's when his vision turned white again.
CHAPTER 3Dr. Ellsworth's attention was drawn to the limp muscular body lying on the operating table before him. The front upper torso reflected eight major scar tissue areas. Looking toward nurse, Clara Eddins, he asked, "Nurse, did this patient have any identification on him when you were going through pre-op procedures?"
"Yes sir, we found only a 'dog-tag' with '—USMC' printed on it."
"What's his name and dog-tag serial number?" Dr. Ellsworth inquired.
"No name or serial number, the tag reads, USMC and that's all! We did find $2600 with some small change on him and we turned the 'dog-tag' and money over to security downstairs.
Upon receipt, Officer Rhineheart called headquarters and they are sending someone out to talk to us."
Shaking his head Ellsworth said, "Let's put this man back together again!"
After three hours of intense surgery, it was time for Ellsworth and staff to leave the rest up to God, as he walked through the surgery exit doors he was met by Detective Ed Simpson, one of Chicago's finest.
"Dr. Ellsworth, may I have a word with you?", asked Simpson.
"Yes, how may I assist you?"
"Doctor, I'm Detective Ed Simpson, Chicago Homicide Division. I understand you have a patient who has received a gunshot wound. Is that correct?"
"Yes, we just finished major surgery on him. Follow me to the ICU waiting area and I'll brief you.
"First of all, we have a white male, approximately fifty two—to fifty five years of age who appears to be in excellent physical condition with the exception of the bullet wound, which really tore up his right shoulder. He's lost a lot of blood through external bleeding. Presently, we have him in stable condition; however, we'll hold him in ICU for a couple of days so we may monitor him on a twenty-four hour basis."
Simpson replied, "I checked with security when I came up but Officer Rhinehart was out of pocket. Can you give me ID information concerning your patient?"
"No, I'm afraid we're a little short on ID information. The nurses gave all the info they had to Officer Rhinehart."
"All I can tell you about this individual is that he has taken care of himself, and from the body evidence he has been in one hell of a fight! I've never seen as much scar tissue on a living human being. For a fact, somebody, somewhere in times past, have apparently tried to cut him in half with a high caliber weapon."
"When will I be able to talk with him?"
"Let's give the big guy twenty-four hours. It would be best if you would call nurse Eddins and set an appointment time for interview. She'll let me know so I can be on hand. I don't want to lose this one. I'll tell you for a fact, he is one tough hombre." With the closing remark, Dr. Ellsworth excused himself and headed down the hall to visit other patients.
Detective Simpson recognized he had a lot of work to do, including finding Officer Rhineheart and secure whatever evidence hospital security had to offer. After which, he would visit the ambush scene off north Lexington Street.
CHAPTER 4The rain had set in again, aided by a slight breeze from the north. Just enough to be chilly in the windy city. As Simpson entered his apartment it was time to relax, have a beer, with a cold baloney sandwich and watch the ten pm. news. Since the homicide division had placed a 'gag' order on the shooting there would be no mention of the incident on any of the news channels.
After Simpson turned off the television set, he could hear the traffic outside with an occasional horn blasting away. His apartment house, The Stoneleigh, was located on NW Douglas Drive and normally was very quiet in the evening hours; however; tonight it seemed to be an extremely busy place and just a little nerve-racking. Maybe it was because he was still uptight thinking about the dog-tag, USMC without Name, MOS or Serial Number!
He was restless, tossing and turning at 0210 hours he awoke and was not able to go back to sleep. Sensing it was a hopeless situation he thought maybe a fresh cup of coffee would settle his nerves and he would be able to rethink the previous day's activity. After finishing the second cup of freshly ground coffee, he thought of a lead he had overlooked. He needed to visit with his friend, Howard Long, dispatcher for the Metro Ambulance Service division. Hurriedly he got dressed and headed for the Metro Emergency Ambulance Services office, located downtown Chicago. Upon arrival he was greeted by Sergeant Hartsell, the dispatcher a long time friend.
Smiling, Hartsell said, "Good morning, 'gum-shoe', what brings you out this early morning? I thought detectives retired at six pm. and came to work about noon the next day."
Simpson replied with a slight frown on his face, "Hartsell, I thought by now you would have grown-up and learned to respect the law enforcement division. If I had known you were on duty I would have waited until noon!"
"When does my friend Howard come on duty?"
"Simpson, you've just got me. Mr. Howard Long is on vacation."
Both men smiled and shook hands. Since they had not seen each other in three years, they briefly reminisced about having previously worked a case together.
Hartsell asked. "How can I help you this morning?"
"We had a shooting victim delivered to Cook Hospital by one of your units. I need to visit with your driver and medics in attendance during the pick-up and delivery."
With a inquisitive look, Hartsell asked. "What time are we talking about?"
"I'd estimate sometime around 1900 hours.... off Lexington Street!"
"Simpson, Lexington is a damn long street. North or South Lexington?"
"Hartsell, have you ever thought of becoming a detective? You sure as hell ask a lot of detail questions. It was in the three hundred block off North Lexington about a hundred yards in the alleyway. The victim was moving from east to west in the alley when a sniper downed him. I believe the victim has type 'A' blood.
"Would you please give me your unit number and the driver's name who made the pickup. I need to talk to him or her as soon as possible."
Smiling, Hartsell replied. "No need to get testy. Our ambulance services are divided into zones and I just needed to determine which zone the pickup was made."
With a bewildered look, Simpson said, "Okay, Hartsell, my fault. I'm a little up tight on this one and I haven't slept well. We've got a very unusual case as the victim has little identification and I'm grasping for straws."
Hartsell examined his ambulance assignment sheets. "Yep, that was unit #54 and the driver was Claudia Hefner, she was assisted by Larry Covington and Sid Young. Now, let me check the report sheet. Here we go, yeah, they picked up your man and initially thought they had a corpse! I'll make you a copy of their report ... maybe this will assist you."
Quickly glancing over the delivery report Simpson noticed, Hefner and Covington had turned in a small piece of blood stained paper, plus a small silver signet with a Wolf's face imprinted on the surface. Apparently the items had fallen out of the victims jacket when he was being loaded onto the stretcher. For safe keeping the items were turned in to Metro's security claims office.
"Hartsell, sorry to bother you again but I need one more favor."
Smiling again, Hartsell said. "Sure thing, but I'm not buying you breakfast!
What else do you need?"
"This report indicates you have a couple of items found on the victim when they delivered him to Cook Hospital. I would like to have those items for my investigation.
"My friend, you shall have same," replied Hartsell.
As Simpson received the small piece of blood stained paper and the silver Wolf signet, he noticed smeared writing on the paper. The writing was not legible with the naked eye, so he quickly bagged the evidence and headed for police headquarters.
CHAPTER 50453 hours.
Marty Stewart was working the front desk. "Well, as I live and breath here comes, Simpson, my favorite detective. Did your lady friend throw you out this early? She's either ill physically or she's lost her marbles, whatever! You don't look so good! What's happening?"
"Marty, I need your help. Please pull up all computer data we have on the local Marine activities within the last year and contact Marine Headquarters, Quantico, Virginia. We need assistance in identifying an individual who's wearing a 'dog-tag' showing USMC with no name, mos or serial number.
About all we have is a live body lying in ICU at Cook Hospital.
"We will forward what DNA we have within the next twenty-four hours.
"I have a couple of items I need to project on the big screen so I'll be in the conference room if you need me."
"For you, anything! By the way, the Chief doesn't want you projecting any porno stuff. Do you understand me?"
Smiling, Simpson called out. "Dearest Marty, I wouldn't dare do it without you."
Cook Hospital, 0605 hours. Shift change.
Helen Schroeder, alias, Ann Duvall presented her fake CIA identification badge and card to the nurse on duty in the ICU. Duvall instructed her, Agent Andrew Scoggins was to be moved to a military care unit immediately because of security reasons. The nurse responded by telling Duvall she would have to have Doctor James Barnett's approval. She immediately left her work station to locate the doctor. Due to the shift change causing some state of disorder and lack of immediate assigned responsibilities among the hospital staff, it was an excellent time for Duvall to activate the fire alarm system. Within ten minutes she had managed to clear the ICU and hospital grounds with the hospital's mystery patient, Andrew Scoggins now in her care and keep.
Simpson's viewing through overhead projection had produced satisfactory viewing. The small parcel of paper was from an embossed envelope showing a return address for International Oil and Gas Exploration Company on South Colorado Blvd., Denver, Colorado. The 'Wolf' silver signet piece had no stamping marks; however the engraving was of good quality.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Lenora Assignment by Grey Stone. Copyright © 2014 Grey Stone. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse LLC.
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