Shattered Shield: Cole Cameron Thriller Series Book 1 Read online

  “Too long Cole, how are you?”

  They shook hands and took their seats. From Cameron's position, he saw around Grant and noticed the young woman two tables down looking at them. She smiled at him as he glanced at her.

  They exchanged pleasantries, and then Ramsey asked, “Have you thought about getting out?”

  Cameron looked inquisitively at Grant as if to ask for the appropriate reference.

  “The Agency” Grant replied, intuitively.

  Cameron wasn’t sure where to begin.

  “You know Grant, when we lost my brother Jack, I thought I was doing the right thing. I really believed that I could make a difference. My ex, Grace thought I was suffering through some kind of early mid-life crisis.”

  “Yeah but, you know that forty is the new thirty.”

  “Yeah at forty-four, I keep telling my body that,” Cameron chuckled.

  “Well, shit what do you expect, you gave up a nice gig with that consulting firm and moved your family across the country.”

  Grant was right about that. He thought.

  “Yeah, that just pushed us over the edge we were already headed that way.”

  Cameron stopped just long enough to take a drink of water.

  “How about you, Grant? How’s life as Chief of Security with a big conglomerate like Vistacom?”

  “You wouldn’t believe the technology and sophistication used in corporate espionage. Still, it’s not much of a thrill ride, but hell, I’m making a lot more money.”

  The two laughed. Grant started to say something else when Cameron beat him to the punch.

  “So, Grant why did you want to meet me?”

  “Cole, we’re always looking for good talent, and I know you were kind of on the bubble after McCune took over. So I wanted to check in.”

  Cameron’s expression must have given him away. They were not friends, and Grant’s line seemed inauthentic.

  “OK, OK, the real reason I wanted to meet with you is that I needed to talk to someone outside the office. Someone with your kind of experience.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know your environmental background with the company you owned in the private sector.”

  “Is everything OK?”

  “I’m not really sure. That’s why I wanted to meet in person rather than talk over the phone. I think I have stumbled onto something and I’m not sure who to trust.”

  Cameron motioned for him to continue.

  “I’m pretty sure that I’m under some surveillance and we’re upgrading our communication systems as we speak. This all happened when our firm wanted to investigate…” Grant paused to sip his coffee and avoid being overheard, while the two businessmen got up to leave.

  Cameron thought about his conversation with McCune. He caught himself feeling paranoid.

  “Maybe you should contact McCune. What if this has something to do with your past operations?”

  “I don’t think so. Besides, McCune and I didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. As far as I know, McCune could be the one having me tailed.”

  Ramsey seemingly relaxed, taking another sip of coffee.

  “Look, I don’t know how serious this is. I just know that once I started digging, weird things started happening.”

  “What do you mean weird?”

  “Someone is screwing with me, Cole. Our firm wanted to look into a company that we targeted for acquisition. It’s an environmental company named, The Roslin Environmental Group. Do they sound familiar at all?”

  “Yes, vaguely.” Cameron scratched his brow trying to jog his memory.

  “I believe I met one of Roslin’s officers at a conference in San Francisco several years ago. If I remember right, they offered services similar to my firm’s but had a primary focus on research and development. Back then they had a few defense contracts with a specialty in biohazards. That part was outside our wheelhouse.”

  Grant nodded.

  “Well, they’ve grown since then and expanded their services. We were performing your typical risk assessments and background checks, and I was personally performing your not-so-typical investigation if you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah.” Cameron nodded, knowing Grant’s reputation as a ‘cowboy’ who would bend the rules to get his mission done.

  “Everything went haywire after we decoded some suspicious data within Roslin’s system about their VX project. Hell, I thought the production of VX was outlawed years ago.”

  “That’s a nasty nerve gas,” Cameron inserted as if Grant needed an explanation.

  “Production was banned except for some research purposes, and even then, it is limited to something like twenty pounds a year I think.”

  “Shit, that’s not much.”

  “Well, it only takes 10mg of contact to be lethal. But this stuff is highly regulated and monitored.”

  “I get it, but I’m talking about sensitive data related to government contracts being transmitted to untraceable systems,” Grant asserted.

  “They must have caught our sniffing because everything was wiped out before we could track it down. Anyway, since then I’ve had to watch my back. Our IT guys also blocked some hacks on our systems, they don’t think we were compromised, but I’ve got that weird feeling you get. I think maybe I've been trailed a couple of times.”

  “Maybe someone on your team…”

  “I’m not sure. But that’s why I’m here. I don’t know who to trust.”

  “Grant, you should go to McCune, just to be safe, or at least the FBI!”

  “Shit, I don’t trust her, Cole! And if I go to the FBI, they’ll want to know how I came across this information, which could implicate me legally.”

  His frustration was becoming more apparent. “I can’t afford to get slammed with bogus charges on this.”

  “Bogus?” Cameron raised his eyebrow at Grant.

  “Cole, I’m heading out west to find out more about this VX issue.”

  “You mean, possible issue.” Cameron corrected.

  Grant moved back in his chair, relaxing his shoulders.

  “I’m flying out to Los Angeles next week, to Roslin’s headquarters, then over to Tucson to their Research and Development Center. I have an asset there that I brought into play before all of this went down.”

  Cameron chuckled internally at the term ‘asset.’ Grant was still using spy lingo.

  “I think she can provide some additional intel. I was hoping I could leverage your background and have you look it over,” Ramsey continued. “Look, just give me some consultation on this. Just until I know what I’m dealing with.”

  Cameron sighed. “Grant, you’re asking the wrong guy for help here. I’m seriously considering throwing in the towel and crawling back to California.”

  “No. I’m asking the right guy,” Ramsey argued, “Cole, you know how the system works, whether it’s the CIA or FBI, it doesn’t matter. You know the bureaucracy will throw out enough hurdles to make it impossible to get to the bottom of this. You said yourself that the system has castrated you. Well, here’s a chance to grow your balls back. I’m not part of that system anymore. I can find out what’s going on at Roslin and if I find anything concrete, I’ll go to the FBI. But I need your help first.”

  “Just to look things over?” Cameron asked for reassurance.

  Grant nodded then asked, “Do you still run through the park near your house?”

  “Yeah, now that the weather is getting better.” He lifted both arms as if to say ‘why?’.

  “A couple of years ago, I used a spot behind the concession stand near the main complex as a dead drop.” More spook-speak, Cameron thought.

  “Really?” Cameron asked in disbelief. He was surprised that this old-school practice happened in his neighborhood.

  “Yep, she was a smoking hot Russian girl, too. Anyway, there’s a white plastic pipe behind the concession stand. It’s a phony venting tube with a removable cap. That’s the dead drop.”

&nb
sp; “Do you really think that’s necessary?” Cameron asked with a slight tilt of his head.

  “I know someone is trying to track me, so, I think so.”

  “What about the other person who knows about this drop site?”

  “She’s no longer in the country and has been out for some time.”

  “What about a mark?” Cameron asked.

  “I’ll place a diagonal slash mark with a thick red marker on the east wall of the main complex that houses the restrooms.” Grant continued.

  “That should be just outside the Men’s room?” Cameron asked verifying his bearings.

  “Right. But it will need to be checked on a regular basis because there’s a crew that cleans up any graffiti about once a week.”

  “Well, let’s hope we never have to use it,” Cameron said.

  Grant picked up his cup, forgetting he had finished off his coffee. He put it back down. Looking at Cameron, he breathed a deep sigh. “Thanks, Cole. I won’t forget this.”

  “Well, I may be looking for a job when this is all over, so I’ll hold you to it.”

  They stood up together, and Cameron reached over to pick up his suit jacket lying on the back of the chair. He glanced toward the young woman that had caught his eye, two tables down. She was gone. He wondered how she could have left without his noticing.

  The two said their goodbyes and headed to the parking lot. Cameron cracked a smile, as he watched the tall Grant Ramsey squat down to fit his head inside his rental car. Cameron was leaving later than he had expected and dreaded being caught in rush hour traffic.

  Cameron felt the heat on the leather-upholstered seat as he started his car. The music playlist he had been listening to, seemed louder now. Turning the volume down, he moved into the traffic, as he tried to sort out his conversation with Grant. Part of him believed that Grant was overplaying it, and he seemed paranoid. But Grant Ramsey was a seasoned pro and not easily shaken.

  As Cameron drove home, he tossed thoughts around in his head, who would be tailing Grant? Maybe Grant is…

  His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, “This is Cameron.”

  “Hi Cole,” Grace’s uneasy voice came through the audio system.

  “Hey, Grace.”

  “Cole, have you reviewed the list of things the Realtor sent?”

  “Not yet, I’ve been busy.”

  “Cole, this is the last piece of the settlement. Then I won’t have to call you anymore. You dragging your feet on this is not helping anyone, including Jessica.”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just need some time to get all of the touch-ups and stuff done.”

  “And you need to call Jessica when you get a chance.”

  “Let me guess. She needs more money,” Cameron smirked.

  “No. She just had a few questions for you. I think there is something wrong with her computer. OK. I’ve got to go, please look at those emails and remember, don’t forget to call Jess.”

  “Alright. Be careful out there.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, just be careful is all.”

  “Bye Cole!”

  Cameron saw the call disconnect on screen and rubbed his brow thinking about his disjointed communication with Grace. Then he scrolled through his contacts, and he smiled as he thought of his daughter, Jessica.

  Jess had her Mom’s beauty and her Dad’s stubbornness, he thought. She had insisted on going to college in Southern California at UCLA where Grace’s father was an alumnus. At least her Mom was close. But the distance for Cameron was hard to take. But she seemed at home there. He pushed the speed dial on his cell phone.

  Later, after arriving home, and helping himself to a plate of leftovers, Cameron sat at the kitchen island. He scrolled through the emails on his phone while eating. The bright LED motion sensor light lit up his back patio.

  Cameron got up and walked outside just in time to see his next-door neighbor’s cat leaving a deposit in his landscaping straw. “Get!” he yelled at the cat. “Damn it, Strawman!” he gritted through his teeth, remembering the nickname Jessica had given the cat.

  Back in his study, he did a quick Internet search of the Roslin Environmental Group and clicked his way to their corporate website. Cameron scrolled through the web pages, curious to find out more information about their services. He scanned through the list of officers, looking to see if he could recognize anyone.

  He pointed at one photo and tapped on the screen, Hey, I know you. Nothing else stood out to him except the company’s substantial growth over the last few years.

  He could sense a little envy of their success rising to the surface of his mind. Often, he pondered how far he could have taken his firm, had he stayed there. He had battled this underlying regret for some time now. How could I have been so naïve? He questioned himself. This career move had cost him more than money.

  Cameron had worked hard and enjoyed the accomplishments he had achieved. Now, he felt like a glorified paper-pushing babysitter catering to wounded egos and an assortment of organizational dysfunctions — the description he had recounted to Grace on several occasions. He no longer had control. Instead, he felt like a pinball bounced around from assignment to assignment at the hand of some cruel kid constantly tilting the machine.

  Cole Cameron resigned from the Air Force after five years of service choosing to serve the remainder of his eight-year commitment as a reserve. Grace never really got military life and did not understand Cole’s career aspirations, but the primary reason for moving back to California was his father’s illness.

  Cole and Jack’s father, Jim Cameron, started and ran an environmental firm in Southern California and his father’s business was in need of leadership to survive.

  Cameron took over his father’s environmental firm and turned the company around preserving his father’s legacy and providing a very comfortable living for his family.

  Cameron sat at the desk, gazing at the flat screen of the computer, but not seeing it. His thoughts continued to drift, reflecting on how his life had changed over the last few years.

  He never felt that he and Grace had an inspiring marriage, it was near passionless. Instead, the relationship was a purely functional one that was tolerable with the goal of raising their daughter. Now, Jessica was away at college and his business was no longer his, but belonged to a group of former friends, he now considered strangers.

  The things that were dearest to him were all gone. Cameron convinced himself that his unconscious quest for some sort of self-actualization had cost him dearly.

  CHAPTER 4

  McLean Virginia

  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His shirt soaked with sweat. His eyes stung, as his body’s salty moisture dropped from his short dark brown hair, down his forehead, and into his eyes. He tried to wipe his eyes with his shoulder. How much longer? He asked himself as he tried to ignore the pain shooting up his left knee. His mind picked up on that train of thought. How much longer? How much longer could he take this job? How much longer could he put selling the house off? How much longer? Cameron’s thoughts dissipated as he concentrated on an uphill climb.

  Just as he reached the top of the hill, he could see from his vantage point, the closed concession stand and the public building that Grant had described. He circled the main complex to get to the east side. Without breaking stride, he glanced to see if there was a mark on the wall.

  Cameron had to laugh at himself as he continued his early morning run, making his way back home. He grunted his disapproval as he passed the For-Sale sign with the smiling Realtor’s face plastered on it.

  That weekend he and Darryl Capps met up at the range, for training with shooting drills. Their trainer was a ‘no-nonsense’ professional nicknamed 'Boggy,' or otherwise known as Brian Olsen, a former Navy Seal. After a series of dry drills, they were pinging hard targets set forty yards away with their handguns.

  Boggy was meticulous in his tutoring, working wi
th trigger finger movement and muzzle management. Later they moved to dynamic drills, also known as shoot and run drills with assault rifles and the Glock 22. Moving from one spot to another, and switching from right-handed shooting to left-handed shooting, rapidly ejecting and inserting fresh magazine loads.

  Finally, they worked as a team through timed scenario-based exercises for room clearance and hostage situations. Cameron was amazed at his big friend who stood over six foot five inches and weighed a good two hundred and forty pounds. Darryl Capps’ speed and agility were God-given advantages, but his accuracy and tactical skills were the results of years of training and fervor discipline.

  After they completed their training, Cameron and Capps grabbed a beer at the nearby sports bar and caught up. Capps would need to head back to the Gulf in a few days, and Cameron was unsure when he would see him again.

  “You’re getting good at this Cole!” Capps offered a rare compliment.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No, I meant the drinking. You had two this time.”

  “Oh, that’s low, man.”

  “Seriously, you’ve got to get McCune to take the leash off. I don’t know how you do it in that office all day.”

  “Yeah, you’d think they’d give me hazard pay for dealing with the political landmines,” Cameron chuckled. “Hey, have you heard from Grant Ramsey?”

  “Not since he rode off into the sunset two years ago why?”

  “Well, he asked to meet me, so we grabbed a coffee a few days ago. He’s now in the private sector working as the chief security officer for a fairly large firm.”

  “H’mm. I’m surprised,” Capps said as he took another swig of his bottle of German beer.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, you know with what happened at Ash Shihr, he looked to anyone and everyone but himself to blame. It was your intel that put us there,” Capps said pointing his finger at Cameron.

  “That’s bullshit!” Cameron said jerking his head for emphasis. “My intel was solid, and my recommendation was to gather additional HUMINT before any other action.”