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Last Chance to Die
Noah Boyd
The gripping action thriller from New York Times bestselling author and former FBI agent Noah Boyd. Steve Vail has brains, brawn and balls – and is back for his latest mission.Steve Vail visits Kate Bannon, Assistant Director of the FBI, for a well-earned and romantic New Years Eve in Washington, DC, but he suddenly finds himself knee-deep in a very complicated and unusual case.A man known simply as Calculus, an intelligence officer at the Russian embassy, approaches the FBI claiming he knows of several Americans who are supplying confidential government information to the Russian secret service. In exchange for this list, he asks for $250,000 for each traitor the FBI arrests. But when Calculus is suddenly recalled to Moscow, the Bureau suspects the worst. The Russians have probably captured Calculus, and might have access to his list – which means they'll soon track down the informants and murder them.That is, unless the FBI can find them first, but without knowing exactly who is on the list, they must keep the operation quiet. Once again, Vail is their man. He's the ideal candidate for this kind of stealth recon mission. It soon becomes clear that finding Calculus and his list of traitors isn't going to be quick or quiet. In fact, it's going to be downright deadly…
Last Chance to Die
Noah Boyd
For my wife, Patti,
who has always grown stronger the more impossible things become
Contents
Before
KATE BANNON THOUGHT SHE WAS HAVING A NIGHTMARE, BUT ACTUALLY…
One
KATE BANNON OPENED HER DOOR. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
Two
THE BLACK TOWN CAR PULLED UP TO THE CURB IN…
Three
AFTER KATE HAD WALKED THE DIRECTOR OUT, SHE CAME BACK…
Four
WHEN THEY GOT TO THE CAR, VAIL SAID, “YOU KNOW…
Five
KATE LISTENED TO VAIL’S SHALLOW BREATHING AND FOUND IT REMARKABLE…
Six
IT WAS ALMOST 11 P.M. BY THE TIME VAIL CHANGED CLOTHES,…
Seven
KATE FOUND A PARKING SPACE NEAR THE MAIN ENTRANCE OF…
Eight
THE TALL, SLENDER MAN WITH THE SPLAYED NOSE SAT BEHIND…
Nine
WHEN THEY WALKED INTO THE OBSERVATION ROOM AT THE SIXTEENTH…
Ten
VAIL WAS SITTING AT THE KITCHEN TABLE WITH HIS INJURED…
Eleven
LUKE, DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND IGNORE THE STUFF ON…
Twelve
VAIL AND BURSAW SAT IN THE FRONT SEAT OF THE…
Thirteen
IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON WHEN VAIL…
Fourteen
VAIL HAD GOTTEN IN ABOUT FOUR HOURS EARLIER, AFTER A…
Fifteen
SITTING IN THE BACKSEAT, KATE LISTENED TO KALIX AND LANGSTON.
Sixteen
THE THREE UNIT AND SECTION CHIEFS WERE ALREADY SEATED IN…
Seventeen
ONCE VAIL REACHED THE HIGHWAY, HE STAYED IN THE RIGHT…
Eighteen
THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT ASKED VAIL IF HE WANTED ANYTHING TO…
Nineteen
AT A FEW MINUTES BEFORE EIGHT THE NEXT MORNING, VAIL…
Twenty
JOHN KALIX WATCHED VAIL COME THROUGH THE GATE AFTER THE…
Twenty-One
AFTER MORE THAN THREE HOURS OF INTERROGATION BY THE ANNANDALE…
Twenty-Two
WHEN THEY GOT TO THE OFF-SITE, JOHN KALIX WAS PARKED…
Twenty-Three
AS BURSAW DROVE CAUTIOUSLY THROUGH THE CITY’S STREETS, VAIL ASKED…
Twenty-Four
THE PHONE RANG. BURSAW PICKED IT UP AND PUSHED THE…
Twenty-Five
THE FIRST GRAY LIGHT OF MORNING SEEPED INTO THE BEDROOM,…
Twenty-Six
BURSAW PARKED THE BUREAU CAR IN HIS SISTER’S GUEST PARKING…
Twenty-Seven
AS SOON AS VAIL REACHED THE OTHER SIDE, HE TOOK…
Twenty-Eight
KATE WAS THE LAST TO ARRIVE AT THE DIRECTOR’S OFFICE.
Twenty-Nine
IT WAS DARK WHEN KATE GOT BACK FROM THE PENTAGON.
Thirty
WHEN KATE CAME IN THE NEXT MORNING, SHE FOUND VAIL…
Thirty-One
WHAT!”
Thirty-Two
UNSURE WHERE IT WOULD TAKE THEM—AND NOT SURE SHE CARED—KATE…
Thirty-Three
AS THEY NEARED THE ADDRESS FOR MASTER SERGEANT LONGMEADOW’S APARTMENT,…
Thirty-Four
THE NEXT MORNING KATE PICKED UP AN ORDER OF STEAK…
Thirty-Five
THE SURVEILLANCE SQUAD’S OFF-SITE HAD BEEN CAREFULLY EELECTED. THE NEIGHBORHOOD…
Thirty-Six
AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER, THE TWO MEN THAT…
Thirty-Seven
THE BLURRY LIGHT OF DAWN HAD COME UP JUST AS…
Thirty-Eight
IT WAS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, AND KATE COULDN’T…
After
VAIL WALKED UP TO THE FRONT DOOR OF THE SIX TEENTH…
About the Author
Other Books by Noah Boyd
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
BEFORE
KATE BANNON THOUGHT SHE WAS HAVING A NIGHTMARE, BUT ACTUALLY SHE WAS dying.
Only her nagging self-awareness, even in this somnolent state, was forcing her to remember that she didn’t have nightmares. The frightening images had always been there—people shooting at her, falling endlessly from towering buildings, running through thicker and thicker sand to escape something unknown—but her reaction to them had always been as an indifferent observer, curious and analytical. If the “danger” persisted, she would simply tell herself it was a dream and wake up. And that’s what she had to do now, wake up and find out what was causing the chaotic images in her head.
She sat up and felt dizzy, the blood pounding in the top of her head. It hurt too much to be a dream. She felt nauseous and remembered driving home after the Thanksgiving Eve get-together at one of the local FBI watering holes with a large group of people from headquarters. She remembered having a glass of wine, and then a good-looking guy she didn’t know brought her a small glass of—what did he say it was?—Drambuie. She had never tasted it before and took a mouthful. Finding it too bitter for her liking, she set it down and didn’t touch it again. It must have been strong, because she soon started feeling woozy and decided to leave.
Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she worked her feet into slippers and stood up. As soon as she was fully upright, she felt light-headed and had trouble balancing herself. With a hand on the wall, she started toward the kitchen. Walking left her short of breath. That couldn’t be from alcohol. That’s when she heard the low rumbling. She continued to the kitchen and saw that the door to the garage was open. Now she could clearly hear her car running.
Without warning, her knees started to buckle, and she realized that she was not suffering from what she had drunk but from carbon monoxide poisoning. Carefully, she stepped down the three stairs into the garage, which was filled with the haze of exhaust fumes. The car door was locked, and she could see the keys in the ignition.
The garage’s outside door was only a few feet away, and she lurched to it. Taking hold of the knob, she tried to turn it, but her grip failed her. She pushed on the door clumsily with her body weight but couldn’t rotate the knob far enough to open it. Even using both hands, she couldn’t get it to release. Next to the door, in a holder fastened to the wall, was a remote-control unit for the overhead door. She pressed the button, but nothing happened.
Beginning to panic now, she pressed it repeatedly, but still the door didn’t rise. She tried to remember the last time she had changed the battery, but her mind refused to focus on anything requiring memory. All at once she crashed to the floor, knocking over her small gardening caddy and scattering tools in every direction.
