Chasing Dragons

Chasing Dragons Heather Chase FBI Series Book 3 A.W. Kaylen © Copyright 2022 - All rights reserved. The content contained within this book may not be reproduced, duplicated or transmitted without direct written permission from the author or the publisher. Under no circumstances will any blame or legal responsibility be held against the publisher, or author, for any damages, reparation, or monetary loss due to the information contained within this book, either directly or indirectly. Legal Notice: This book is copyright protected. It is only for personal use. You cannot amend, distribute, sell, use, quote or paraphrase any part, or the content within this book, without the consent of the author or publisher. Disclaimer Notice: Please note the information contained within this document is for educational and entertainment purposes only. All effort has been executed to present accurate, up to date, reliable, complete information. No warranties of any kind are declared or implied. 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Table of Contents Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 1 Special Agent Bob Fairfax was no spring chicken, that much was true. In fact, his chicken was about to be roasted. Not that he had ever really been a career man, instead content enough to whittle away at the edifice of crime from the comfort of a field agent’s desk for his near twenty years at the Bureau. But he’d at least had prospects, a trajectory. A vague notion he’d someday be promoted. But that was all set to change when he was handed a case with the potential to ruin his career for good. “Just solve the case, Bob,” ASAC Hogan had said. “And it’ll fast track you to the big leagues.” A little problem with that, though: The case was a swirling black hole and everyone in the NYC Field Office knew it. On its surface it was just a simple bank robbery, this small joint out in Long Island where all their money had gone poof. Except that you looked at the case for a few minutes and quickly discovered it was anything but simple. Not only was it a potential scandal waiting to happen, but also practically unsolvable. The more he delved into the data, the more it swallowed him up. Hell, Bob couldn’t even find the boss of the damn bank yet. He’d just up and vanished. Just who had he scorned to be handed this landmine? He couldn’t figure it out. He’d always kept in his lane, made sure to toe the line, to preserve the fragile egos surrounding him. He’d always kept his head in the data, the facts. It’s what had earned him the nickname Bookman. He hadn’t cared about the ridicule, the general perspective around the office that he was a lightweight, a desk jockey, a total nerd. Bob had continued to do things by the book regardless, playing the game he was meant to play. And look where it had gotten him. He’d finally been branded a black sheep. He knew the reason why, too. It was guilt by association. Association with one Special Agent Heather Chase, who had gone out of her way to piss off every agent in the Bureau. He worked with her just that one time and now he was branded for life as a troublemaker, even after transferring out of Violent Crimes into Financial Crime to best employ his skills at data analysis. He’d still been given a wide berth. Bob just had to come to terms with the fact he was a pariah. Hell, he had come to terms with it. But that wasn’t going to help solve a case where hundreds of millions of dollars had evaporated without a trace, along with the bank’s boss Frank Lehrman. Bob stood in the doorway for a second and sighed, adjusted his red satin tie over his not-entirely-pressed white shirt. He tugged off his French coat and flattened his hair down. Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity, he muttered to himself, the words sounding ironical now. Switching off the internal monkey machine in his mind, Bob adjusted his face into a professional smile that made the creases of his face stand out. He walked into the room like a prisoner on death row. He was just going to tell it like it was, that’s all. No exaggeration, no polite omission. No icing on the cake. If he had to swallow it, so did they. Just tell ‘em, Bob. Give it to ‘em straight. The room contained six heads including Bob’s—which was now turning numb and fuzzy like TV static. You had ASAC Hogan and his smarmy grin at the head of the table on the left. Across from him at the right end, two agents from Cyber Division probably ranking around GS-10, and one other from Financial. These agents bore a similar smarminess to ASAC Hogan. What did they have to be so smug about? They were regular special agents just like Bob; in fact, Bob was GS-12, putting him at a decent pecking order among his colleagues (in theory, at least). ASAC Hogan was Assistant Special Agent in Charge which is GS-15, and he ran the four