The Missile Game (The Dr. Scott James Thriller Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

tobacco leaves, ones that generated enough smoke to engulf the entire motel room in a thick cloud.
    Simpkins tried not to think about who these men were. They didn’t seem like CIA. But he had to admit it: The “acting” experience had been interesting. It put money in his pocket, and … got him a date with Nicole tonight.
    Simpkins told his Pakistani minders of his successful day. He was proud of the fact that not one of the people he had talked to during the day had noticed his primary objective—planting miniature microphones in the offices he visited. He’d managed to photograph most of the places he’d been to, as well. Simpkins had a hidden camera in his neck tie that was activated simply by touching the tie. Posing, vaguely, as a diligent Federal officer, he’d successfully photographed and bugged most of Jackson City’s important buildings.
    Three of the Pakistani men lay stretched out on the double bed and listened to Simpkins’ tale. At the end, one commented to Simpkins that he’d done a good job and that he was free to go meet Nicole for his date now.
    The Pakistani agents said nothing to Simpkins about it, but they were especially thrilled with the bug Simpkins positioned in one of the embroidered gold stars on the shoulder of Captain O’Brian’s coat. If someone alerted the police to their presence, they’d probably know.
    If they were lucky, it all might lead to Alpha Charlie.
    Simpkins traded the suit they had lent him for his own dungarees, Justin boots, and Hawaiian sport shirt. In the parking lot, he switched from the rented Chevy to his Honda motorcycle and drove away.
    There was little traffic on the rural road that was a shortcut back to Chapel Hill, so Simpkins was aware of a dark SUV that followed at a distance. Suddenly, he saw the lights of the vehicle approaching rapidly. He accelerated the motorcycle to seventy miles an hour. The SUV was doing ninety.
    Simpkins moved to the far right of his lane to allow it to go by. The SUV slowed as it started to pass the bike. A man in the back seat stuck his head and shoulders out of the truck window and slammed the back of Harold Simpkins’ neck with a baseball bat, just as a second, smaller man in the front seat leaned out his window and grabbed the motorcycle’s handle bars. Simpkins went flying through the air, his body smashing against a tree.
    The SUV braked. Simpkins was retrieved and wrapped in a tarp. The body and the motorcycle were thrown in the back of the SUV.
    It was a professional job.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Jackson City Jail
    Jackson City, North Carolina
    11:00 am
    AT MY ARRAIGNMENT, I was charged with first degree murder of Wilson and Dr. Carey, and the attempted murder of Elizabeth Keyes. My whole body shook. Harris stated, at the proceeding, “There’s no proof that anyone other than Dr. James had been in the office at the time of the two deaths, and he was in the recovery room when the attempt to kill Keyes was made.”
    Bail was set at two million dollars. There was no way I could come up with that much money, especially after Alicia confiscated all of our bank accounts and then took the maximum cash possible out of all our credit cards and then canceled them. Alicia was a survivor and she was always good at taking care of herself.
    Innocent or guilty, it looked like I was going away for a long time.
    I was led to a row of twelve jail cells. Each was designed to hold two inmates. All the men in this area were violent criminals, incarcerated for drug-related killings, rape, and armed robbery. It was a rough-looking group of men. We all wore the same blue prison suits. I was placed with a Hispanic male, Hector Mendez. He was an inch shorter than me, but must have been a hundred pounds heavier, although it was mostly fat. “Morning,” I said, as I tried to sit down on my bed.
    Mendez stood in my way and grunted, “Fuck you, white boy.”
    “And I was thinking we could be friends.” I shrugged and tried to move around him. The