Blown by Chuck Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

complete, no detail of the target's life had been omitted. Age, weight, height, aliases, passports, driver's licenses, friends, relatives, every location he'd ever lived, every job he'd ever had, past lovers—it was all there. Valkyrie was looking at the man's entire life under a microscope. There was nothing, it seemed, Shepherd didn't know about the target except one thing.
    The most important thing.
    His current whereabouts.
    Valkyrie scoured the file learning as much as possible about the man. It would take several hours to digest this much information. Time Valkyrie didn't have. A person's past provided a wealth of information to the discerning eye. And Valkyrie could discern what others could not, more quickly than most. A gift that elevated the assassin to a level of prominence in a dog-eat-dog business.
    The target presented a unique challenge for the assassin. He had traveled extensively over the past few years, most of it under an assumed identity. Valkyrie understood why. If the man wanted to stay alive, his true identity had to remain disguised. Which made Valkyrie's job more difficult. The assassin could see by the file the target had many enemies and most wanted him dead. He had survived several prior attempts on his life. This time he would not be so lucky.
    The target was last seen in Little Rock, Arkansas not much more than an hour ago, which meant the trail was already growing cold. Valkyrie was an hour away by private jet plus thirty minutes to get to the airport plus another fifteen minutes to pick up a rental car. Essentially three hours behind the target. An almost insurmountable gap unless the target made a mistake which, based on his file, was unlikely to happen.
    Valkyrie closed the laptop and slipped it inside a backpack. Plenty of time to read more about the target on the flight. Valkyrie placed a call to the airport, grabbed a go bag , and left the luxurious Denver flat for the Centennial Airport where the chartered Hawker 400 XP would be fueled and ready to go.

9
    K aplan ended the call and mounted his Harley. The raging fire on the hillside behind him had ignited a brush fire. The breeze pushed it up and around the inside of the horseshoe shaped quarry to the point where it would soon threaten the grove of tall pine trees at the top of the cliffs.
    First responders were on their way and within a short time the area would be swarming with firefighters, police, and emergency personnel searching for possible survivors.
    "Tony," Kaplan shouted. In the distance he heard sirens. The direction seemed to be just beyond the quarry. "We need to leave now or we're as good as dead. It will take thirty minutes to get where we need to go and we're not exactly inconspicuous."
    Tony stood and slipped onto the rear saddle. Kaplan shifted the bike into gear and sped off down the Arkansas River Trail. He knew what was west of him on the Trail; he didn't dare return the way he came. The directions he just received indicated the Interstate was not very far north of the river. He just needed to get there without the authorities spotting him.
    He needed a place to hole up and hide while he sorted things out. Like how to keep Tony alive until he delivered him to a WitSec safe site. It seemed the promise he made to the dying deputy was getting more and more difficult to keep. Several people wanted the old man dead and didn't care if Kaplan was collateral damage.
    He took the first road he came to and exited the Arkansas River Trail, which took him through the perimeter of a North Little Rock neighborhood. The road made a series of turns before it merged onto Fort Roots Drive. In the distance, a car rounded a curve with its blue lights flashing. To his left, above him on a hillside, were two sets of red flashing lights navigating through a series of switchbacks as they descended the hill toward the crash site.
    Blue lights meant cops.
    Not good.
    Red lights meant emergency response vehicles like fire trucks and rescue