Tag: Science Fiction

The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 25

Brand new. I swear. A lot. I swear a lot.

I think this is brand new since I last populated this blog with excerpts. What was Chapter 23 is now Chapter 24 so I’m not putting that in. Hopefully this chapter is brand new…ish.

Let me know if I’m mistaken.

Enjoy.

The Alibi – Chapter 25

 
Sean put a rack of clean towels in his spare room, moved out some fins and tanks, pushed two scuba suits over to the side to make room in the closet, and wheeled in an extra-thick mattressed cot complete with fluffy pillow. A quick check of his watch told him Seamus should be in the air by now.

His mobile chirped Bloody Sunday. He tapped Seamus’ winking face and heard his cousin railing before the phone got to his ear.

“Start over again, Seamus. I missed part of that.”

“My flight’s delayed. Some kind of engine trouble or other nonsense. I’m booking another flight. I’ll…Cac! There’s no flights to Boston today. How far is New York from you?”

“Add four hours minimum to your flight time. Anything for Portland, Maine?”

“I can get to Montreal. How far is that?”

“Adding customs? Not worth it. How important is this?”

“Cac! Now there’s a problem with my credit card. Hold on. I’ll use my university card.”

Seamus’ image left the screen and returned a moment later. His wife hovered in the background, smiled, and signed HELLO // to Sean. He signed back YO //.

Seamus grimaced. “Fuck! There’s a hold on all my cards.”

His wife handed him her card. “Ah. Okay. Now we’re…Íosa Críost! It’s not my cards, it’s me! I’m not allowed international travel! What the fuck? I’m known internationally in half a dozen fields! I hold professorships in universities all over the world! I – ”

Sean interrupted him. “Seamus, has this ever happened before?”

“Never! Countries are thrilled to have me lecture and study. I – ”

“It’s happened to me before.”

“What?”

“Sometimes I’m doing sensitive work. Sometimes I – ”

“You mean Alphabet City work?”

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The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 23

Brand new. I swear.

Enjoy.

The Alibi – Chapter 23

 
Master Chief Sonar Technician Boyd and COB Jensen stood like recalcitrant schoolgirls in Captain Hudon’s quarters, their faces bowed, their hands clasped behind them.

Hudon, elbows on her desk like two legs of unshakable tripod, rubbed her hands together in front of her face. “Let me get this straight. You want me to take this boat into North Harbor becuase somebody’s making a phone call and the two of you and Sherlock can’t eavesdrop from out here?”

Jensen perked up and smiled. “Well, when you put it like that, Captain, I – ”

Harod closed her eyes. “Perhaps you better let Sonar Chief Boyd handle this?”

Boyd spoke up. “Sherlock’s pulling a blank. I suspect the source is some kind of LRAD – ”

Jensen leaned forward. “Long Range Acoustic Device. A kind of high power loudspeaker that – ”

Hudon held up a hand and kept her eyes on Boyd.

Jensen leaned back. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

Hudon lowered her hand.

Boyd continued. “Along some kind of parametric array. They’ve got to be using a non-linear transduction system to reduce side-lobe – ”

Jensen leaned forward again. “They have tech at our level or better.”

Hudon’s hand went back up.

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

Boyd continued. “From out here the Harbor Tunnels are giving just enough interference to disrupt the pattern, but only because it’s highly directional so any off-axis signal is – ”

Jensen interrupted without leaning forward. “We have to be on top of it to figure out what it is.”

Hudon continued focusing on Boyd. “Did I assign Holmes and Watson to my boat? I don’t remember seeing their names on my manifest.”

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

Boyd opened her mouth and Hudon’s hand went back up. “You want me to sail this boat over the Boston Harbor Tunnels?”

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The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 19

YO! Brand new!

Enjoy.

The Alibi – Chapter 19

 
Dev Surely rode the T home from work, took a quick shower, put on summer weight clothes more befitting a hot Boston June than an overly air-conditioned megastore, poured herself an ice tea, and sat on her porch overlooking Dorchester Bay.

It had not taken long for this to become her end-of-day routine. For student housing, this was quite a find. Frankly, she believed this whole building was a safe house and every apartment was monitored, videod, and otherwise privacy invaded.

You didn’t find places like this in Southie any more.

She wondered if DDOS Connelly secretly watched her shower.

Rumor was she wasn’t his type. Wrong plumbing. Not that it mattered. He’d always been playfully respectful since their first meeting back in McLouth, Kansas.

She hadn’t been back home in years now. Couldn’t contact her folks for fear of compromising them with all her undercover work.

Wouldn’t Mom and Dad be proud, though? Your baby girl who ran the risk of getting kicked out of school weekly is one of this country’s top counter-terrorist agents? So much so even MI6 and Mossad asked for her by name.

Connelly kept them apprised, he said.

Good old Connelly.

She sipped her ice tea, her feet up on the porch railing and looked out over Boston Harbor north from Southie, which wasn’t really south but tell that to native Bostonians and most would knock your eye out.

The glass sweated and some of the cool XXX ran down her fingers. She took the glass in her other hand, snapped the wet one to dry it off, and transferred her ice tea back before taking another swallow.

She didn’t mind being hit on on her way to work and back, but for Christ’s sake take a wash when you get off shift before you hit somebody up for a date; stale body odor does not a good first impression make.

She made one friend in her few weeks here. Irene Casey. Black Irish and, as far as Dev could tell, a good cop.

They met in a bar when Dev looked to create some local cover. Sat side-by-side by chance and found drunks assumed they were together hence left them alone. Except one idiot who decided women were Les because they never had the right cock. He tried to knock Dev off her stool. Dev didn’t want to draw attention but it didin’t matter. Before she responded Casey lifted the guy off the floor, flattened him on her stool, sat on him, and continued slowly sipping her beer.
Jensen came forward. Slightly bent at the waist, she supported herself by placing her hands on the control panel’s edge while she scanned Boyd’s screens. “Sounds like they’re having a conversation, doesn’t it?”

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