Undercover Crisis

CHAPTER 1

UNDERCOVER CRISIS

By G.R. DANIELS

ISBN Canada 978-1-9994867-5-4

Copyright ©2019 Awareness Communications Inc. All rights reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Similarities to actual events, places, persons or other entities are coincidental.

Crisis Undercover: fifth in the Crisis Series

Read: The Russian Crisis

Read: Crisis In The Cold

Read: Doubled Down Deadly

Read: Devil's Chair

CHAPTER ONE

Graham Carde ran across the open field expecting to feel the impact of a bullet with every step he took. The shooter had missed twice. One shot blasted out the window of his SUV as he stepped out of it, missing his head by a couple of inches. The second bullet had whizzed by close enough for him to hear the soft hum of its passing.

He was heading for a small grove of trees but it was about 50 meters away across this barren field. His feet pounded on the snow-covered ground; it was mid-March but spring had yet to take hold in this area of Ontario. The winter had been one of the harshest in memory, even in Canada where harsh winters were routine. At least the windblown field wasn't covered in foot-deep snow or slush.

Another shot. Another miss. Carde heard the sound of the firing but not of the bullet. Finally, he reached the trees and took shelter behind a mature maple. He put his hands on his knees and tried to get his breath. A run like this would have been easy for Carde in warmer weather with lighter clothes but, now, he was laden down with his Canada Goose jacket, Baffin boots and thick Roots pants. He had lost his baseball cap on his run but had kept his gloves.

Carde peered around the tree. He didn't see anyone but it was twilight and shadows were deep in the distance. Through the trees, he could see another open field ahead, to the south. To the east, the grove ended just short of Highway 400 and Carde saw no salvation there. The cars and trucks on that highway were whizzing past. He would be in more danger of being run over than being hit by gunfire. There were more trees to the west. That was the way Carde would go if he was pursued.

There was a spark of light from the far side of the field, near the parking lot where he had left his SUV. A moment later, he heard the pop. He was better able, now, to identify the sound. It was the firing of a handgun, not a rifle. 'What the hell?' A pistol bullet fired at this range was a waste of ammunition.

He realized the real purpose of the shot was to keep him from circling back. The proof came quickly. He saw a flame across the field and it grew rapidly. Carde bent low and began working his way back.

The fire was blazing as Carde took his phone out of the pocket of his bomber jacket. The phone was a special edition that had phenomenal functions but all Carde wanted was an answer when he tapped in 911. He got it. "What is your emergency?"

By the time Carde reached the edge of the parking lot, he heard sirens. He kept low and scuttled across the lot to his SUV. He had a gun in a locked cubbyhole below the rear seat. The door of the hideaway slid open as he put his thumb on the keypad. He took out the Glock and checked the load. He backed out of the truck and surveyed the area. Even though it was dark now, he had no trouble seeing in the glare of the fire that was burning in the partially built structure in front of him. There was no one in sight.

Carde tucked the Glock into the inside pocket of his jacket. He went to the entrance of the parking lot and moved into the middle of the road that led out to the highway as a police car and fire department pumper truck barrelled down the road. They slowed and he directed them; the police car into the lot and the pumper to the blaze. Three firefighters jumped out and rolled out a hose. Carde hurried to them and pointed out the hydrant that had been the first thing installed at his new headquarters building.